Sweet and bitter chocolate USUK short stories
by kokoyuki27
Summary: This is a collection of short stories I can't summarize all that into this small box do you not see my problem. My summary skill is bad anyway so there's no use wasting effort writing one. Just give this story a go what do you have to lose. Also i really like your shoelace.
1. Select

"I told you I'm sorry!" America said the same sentence for the third time mow.

"Sorry doesn't cover it!" England's voice was heard from the other side of the line, rather pissed.

"Dude! Chill! Why are you so angry anyway?" Stretching his hand with the phone away from his ear, America scratched his head, puzzled.

"Why? Why?" England was practically shouting at the top of his voice now, "Who wouldn't be angry if he had to wait for someone for 2 hours, only to get a phone call saying that he can't make it?"

"I told you I'm sorry!" That's the fourth time now.

"Stop saying the same bloody thing! Instead of that, why don't you try and be on time for once?" England rubbed his temples, trying hard not to lose it.

"I can't! I'm busy." America sighed.

"Huh…" England paused for a brief second before continuing, "If that's the case, I guess you can't help it either. Did your boss give you a lot of work?" His voice was a lot softer now and sounded just a little bit concerned.

"Nope," America replied without thinking, "I was playing video games."

What? Heroes cannot lie.

"-snap-" England lost it after all.

"… England?" Puzzled by the sudden quietness, America called testily.

"DAMN YOU BLOODY IDIOT! DON'T EVEN BOTHER TO TRY AND TALK TO ME EVER AGAIN!" England shouted, almost bursting America's eardrum. With that, he ended the call.

"…" Looking at the phone's black screen blankly, America sighed and kept his phone. Guess he's just made things worst. Maybe he should go apologise in person. But it wasn't his fault! No one said anything about not playing the video games; England's just being annoying and demanding.

Besides, it was just another one of those shopping and sightseeing trips after the world conference; they were just going to wander around and see Japan's tourist attractions, this and that. No big deal.

"Ahh~ if England's not gonna loosen up and stop being so uptight, who knows how much thicker his eyebrows will get?" America tossed his phone to a side, lie down on his bed and did a stretch. "What game should I play next?" He muttered to himself as he stared at the room's white celling.

* * *

><p>"America kun, did you have a quarrel with England san again?" Japan approached America right after the second conference at his (Japan) house.<p>

"Huh? What makes you think so? Hahaha, Japan! You can be so silly at times!" America laughed awkwardly and scratched his head, trying hard to seem natural.

"… So the two of you did have another disagreement after all." Japan sighed.

"…Was it that easy to notice?" America stopped his actions at once and asked.

"I am afraid so. The only times England san would be quiet and not comment on your ideas would be when he was angry at you." Japan pointed the symptoms out. "What is it this time?" Either way, he had to fix it fast. A meeting where England's particularly quiet is as good as a not having one.

"It's no big deal. England's just being picky and selfish."

"How is that so?"

"He got mad at me because I was too busy to go sightseeing with him."

"May I know what's keeping you busy?" Japan had a feeling where this was going.

"The video games you lent me." America answered honestly.

"…"Japan grabbed America's hand and marched in the direction of America's hotel room.

* * *

><p>"Why are we in my room again?" America asked as Japan rummaged through the disk racks in the room.<p>

"I am just here to collect some things." Japan replied calmly and took several disks out of the rack.

"Huh- Hey, what are you going to do with those?" A bad feeling started growing in America as he stared at the neat pile of game CDs in Japan's hands.

"I am very sorry America kun, but I will be taking the game CDs back until you and England make up." Japan bowed and turned to leave the room.

"No! The hero needs his games to survive!" America leaped up and hugged Japan's waist from the back, refusing to let Japan leave.

"I will return them to you as soon as you apologise to England san." Japan stood his stand firmly.

"It's useless!" America whined, "I've already apologized through the phone, but he's just way to stubborn to care!"

"Then may I ask you to try apologizing to him in person?" Japan suggested, "Everyone will be staying in the hotel until the next meeting, it would be a good chance for you."

"Can't I do it a few days later?" Knowing England's temper, approaching him now was as good as suicide.

"It is all up to you, America kun. However, I will only return the game CDs after England san forgives you." Japan gave America the professional smile as America let go of him and sat on the ground.

"…" America just look at Japan in disbelieve as he waved goodbye and walked out of the room. Who'd know that japan could be so evil and deprive the hero of his entertainment? Sighing, he stood up and grabbed his phone, then left his room. If he wasn't wrong, England's room was on the 18th floor.

For his games, the hero can do a lot of things.

* * *

><p>"England! Hey England, are you in there? England~" America spammed the doorbell for almost forever before there was finally some movement heard from the other side of the door.<p>

"What do you want?" The door was opened to reveal a small gap, showing England's gloomy face.

"GAH! England! Don't glare at me like that! It's scary" America almost jumped, England looked like he was going to kill someone.

"If you are here to spin more of your bloody lies and excuses, I don't want to hear it." England hissed and was about to slam the door shut when America stopped it just in time, barely managing a small gap.

"Wait! I-"

"What now?" he hissed.

"…" America was short of words, he did that out of instinct, and now he's regretting.

_I want to apologize to you and admit that I shouldn't have put games as a top priority. I want to tell you that… There's no way I can say it, it's not something I would do! Ahh... Why can't this be like a game? Choosing an option and doing it without hesitation would totally easier… _

_-Dingdong-_

"Can I come in first?" America looked left and right to make sure that the walkway was empty, and asked.

Both England and America were stunned by that.

"…" England kept quiet and started pondering over this, while America started panicking.

_Wh-what the hell? That wasn't me! I didn't say that! But no one was around! Could this hotel be haunted? Damn it! What's England going to think of me now? I'm just messing things up and making things worse!_

"Fine." England decided and unwillingly opened the door to let him in.

_! He agreed?_

"Thanks dude!" America grinned and hopped into his room as England closed the door behind him.

* * *

><p>"So you took all the games away from him?" Germany watched as Japan sorted the CDs out into three different stacks according to the genre.<p>

"Hai. Knowing America kun, not gaming is a rather painful thing." Japan nodded and looked at the description of one of the CDs in his hand; some games were so old that its content's escaped his memory.

"I see." Germany, being free for once, sat down on the carpeted floor and helped with the sorting of CDs. The CDs all had interesting covers on them and were mainly about shooting and crazy car driving. Maybe he should try one out someday.

"Ah, Germany san, please wait a minute." Japan suddenly said as he motioned for Germany to stop whatever he was doing.

"Hmm? What's wrong?" Germany asked, holding a CD in each hand.

"Could you please pass me that CD in your left hand?" Japan asked and pointed to the CD with a surprisingly plain cover compared to the others.

"You mean this?" Germany waved the CD a little. It had a white cover with nothing on it but the word 'Select' printed in capital letters. "What's wrong with this?" He turned the CD container over to read the description, only to find it empty.

"Nothing of great importance, actually." Japan received the CD and opened the container, revealing a plain white CD. "It is just the prototype of a game that I have been developing. However, I could not recall lending this to America kun." He looked up at Germany and replied in a calm manner.

"A prototype?"

"Yes. Unfortunately, there would not be a completed version. I have stopped all work on this project." Japan put the CD on the floor, alone and beside the other piles.

"Hmm? Why did you stop it?" Germany continued the sorting of CDs.

"Well, there seems to be a glitch in the program. Though, unlike any other bugs or errors, the glitch does not affect the game itself." Japan explained.

"Then what's wrong? As long as the glitch doesn't harm the game, it is fine right?" Germany did not quite understand this; Japan was the technology know-it-all, not him.

"What you have said is right, but the glitch somehow modifies the programme, creating a side effect that brings the game to life."

"To life?" Germany was so shocked that his mouth could fit an apple. "Wouldn't it be dangerous if that happens?"

"Hai, in normal cases, it would. But it just so happens that SELECT is an interaction game that possess no harm and violence at all. In this game, you select different options to interact with other characters and with different options, you get different results." Japan explained. Could he have given it to America by mistake?

"Will the side effect ever wear off?" Germany had a bad feeling about this.

"Fortunately, yes. As long as the subject fulfils the objective of the game, the side effect will be lifted, since it is equivalent to completing the game." Japan managed a smile.

"…And what is the objective of the game?" Germany raised an eyebrow as he placed the last CD on a neat pile.

Japan's smile widened as he grinned from ear to ear. If America really did play this game, then whatever happens next should be rather interesting. It was still quite disappointing that he would be missing all the action. How regretful.

"Japan?"

"Oh yes, the objective of the game is to…"

* * *

><p>"Well? Hurry up and spill your thoughts." England crossed his arms and glared at America, who was sitting on his bed, looking quite uneasy.<p>

_-Dingdong-_

"About that," America's uneasiness was suddenly replaced by an apologetic smile, "Japan's talked to me, and I am really sorry about ditching you today. If there's any way I can make it up to you, say it."

_Crap, there it is again! Why is my body moving on its own? My mouth is talking by itself too. Is this place haunted? Am I being possessed? Why can't I control my body?_

"Hpmh." England snorted and sat beside America on the bed, his hands in his pockets. "It's not that much of a big deal. You are always like that anyway."

America could feel that his body was going to move on its own again and started trembling as he struggled to regain control.

"Bloody hell. If you are going to apologize in the end, then you shouldn't have done it in the first-" England noticed America's strange behaviour and became concerned, "He-hey, are you alright? I am not really that angry, so you don't have to feel so guilty."

_Shit, if this goes on, who knows what I will do or say? I better leave while I still can._

With that in mind, America stood up, followed by England, who was getting worried.

"About that… Sorry England, I suddenly remember that I have something on." He said as he scratched his head.

_Maybe I will come and apologise next time, when everything returns to normal._

_-Dingdong-_

America suddenly stopped all his action and froze for a second while England move a step back, a little shocked by America' s sudden reaction.

"What I really want to say is," America suddenly lunged forward and hugged England tightly as they fell back on the bed.

_GYAAAAA! SOMEONE STOP HIM- SOMEONE STOP ME!_

"De- ACK! What the heck?" England was caught off guard, "Are you trying to scare me to death?"

_I got shocked too…_

"England! I am really, really sorry!" America wasn't showing any signs of letting go and instead, tightened his hug.

"Har?"

"Like I've said, I shouldn't have neglected you." America looked up and England, "I've learnt my lesson now, so could you please forgive me?"

"I-I got it!" England struggled a little, but soon gave up. He was dealing with someone who was strong enough to pull a car around for a whole hour. "Can't you let go of me first?"

"Not unless you forgive me!"

"WHA-? Are you threatening me here?"

"But you are still angry at me right?" America pouted, "I won't let go unless you forgive me!"

"Al-Alright! I got it! I just have to forgive you right?" England gave up. If this goes on, he's probably going to suffocate and faint any moment. "I forgive you!"

"Really?" America's voice was full of joy and hope.

"Yes! Now let go of me!"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I promise." He sighed.

"That's great!" America finally broke into a huge grin as he let go of England and sat up, he was now sitting on top of England, who was still lying on the bed and couldn't get up thanks to the weight on him.

"…" Looking up at America's elated face, England stopped and thought of some things. "Hey America, is there… Something wrong with you today?"

_Yes! You finally noticed it! England! Hurry up and realize that this isn't me! I wouldn't do that! _

"Huh? What do you mean?" America tilted his head a little and asked.

"…How should I put this?" England lifted his hand to his chin, "You are not acting like your normal self. I don't really get it, but your actions are really suspicious and the way you talk is different too." He looked up at the ceiling, "You are being straighter forward than your usual beat-around-the-bushes style… I-It's not like I am saying that you are close to being as cute as you were last time, but…"

_Basically, the normal me is the exact opposite, huh?_

_-Dingdong-_

_Ah._

"Does England, hate the straight forward me?"

"Huh? … Not really."

"So you like it?"

"…" England could not help but blush a little, "Oii, are you here to tease me? If you are, I'm going to get mad at you-"

"I am not teasing you." America interrupted him, "It's just that, if you like it, I would be really happy." He smiled gently.

"…" England was stunned and for a moment, did not know how to react to this. Just what exactly, should he say?

_Damn it! Now's not the time to hesitate! England! Look closer! That's not me! Why can't you discover the difference? This is so uncool! _

_Al-alright! I must stay calm and think of a solution before I say something even more embarrassing!_

_-Dingdong-_

_SHIT!_

"If I tell you how I really feel, will you tell me yours then?" Sensing England' hesitation, America asked as he leaned closer.

_Har?_

"You may think that it's strange for me to be so straight forward, but they are my true feelings."

_Ahh! Ge-get a grip of yourself! This is not going to work!_

"So, isn't it only fair, for me to know your true feelings as well?" he bent down slowly, getting close to England.

_No! Snap out of this!_

"Please believe me,"

_Damn it! Don't say it!_

"I…" He held England's left hand gently.

_Please! Just that sentence!_

"I really…" America's face was leaning so close to England's now that it was just a few more cm before their lips meet.

_I want to tell him with my own words!_

_-DingDingDing-_

"…" America paused, and blinked. He could feel it. He's back and in control.

On the other hand, England noticed a spark in America's eyes, a spark that wasn't there before.

"…" America just straightened up and sat back on the bed as a very puzzled England sat up from the awkward position too.

"I really think that your scones taste horrible, and you have horrible tempers." America's continuation was like a bucket of cold water on England. "You have no taste when it comes to new stuff and you still talk to imaginary friends even though you are already an adult."

"Oii." England was smiling like Russia as he tightened his first, ready to give this idiot who can't read the atmosphere a knuckle sandwich.

"But." America turned around and look and England, "I am addicted to you scones, and you tempers are what makes you interesting. You may not like new stuff, but I don't mind. As for your imaginary friends, if you really want me to believe that they are real, I will." He leaned closer and while England was still processing what he had said, kissed England full on the lips.

"Because I really love you." He smiled nervously as he pulled back, blushing wildly. He knew that there was the chance of England pushing him away in disgust and hating him forever. But he has to do it while he's still himself. Who knows when that thing, whatever it was, will take over again?

"Idiot." England muttered and looked the other way. "It took you long enough to be honest." He looked up at America and smiled.

"I wasn't going to say it any sooner, but since you've really pushed yourself to do this," he took the initiative this time and leaned over to give America a quick kiss, "I love you too, you bloody git." He smiled and messed up America's hair lovingly.

* * *

><p>"In the original game, the player must win the kiss of his crush. However, " Japan paused and tried hard not to chuckle, "in real life, the player must learn to be honest with himself, then earn his kiss."<p>

* * *

><p><em>10 days later:<em>

"Ve~ Fratello~ I am back from the meeting." Feliciano said as he gave his unwilling brother a hug.

"Damn it, can't you say hi like a normal person?" Romano, however annoyed, did not push his brother away. Mainly because he was a little guilty of having his brother attends every single meeting while he slack at home.

"But I miss you!" The meeting lasted for a whole month and he stayed at a hotel in Japan's house the whole time.

"Yeah yeah, whatever. Just let go already." Romano pinched Feliciano's cheek out of annoyance.

"Oh! That reminds me, " Feliciano ran to his bag on the sofa and pulled a box of CD out of it.

"Huh? What's this?" Romano asked as he examined the box of CD Feliciano passed him.

"Ve~ Japan told me to give it to you." Feliciano had the usual smile on his face, "he said something about it being a game CD and was sure that you would like it."

"Har? A game CD?" Romano stared at the cover suspiciously. The plain cover did not suggest anything interesting.

"Um! Oh, he specified that you have to play it." Feliciano replied sternly.

"Tch, how bossy can him be? I will do what I want to do." Romano snorted and threw the CD on the dining table, "Come on, you're hungry right?"

"Ve~Um!" Feliciano nodded as Romano walked into the kitchen.

"I happened to cook too much, so you can have some." He said as he came out of the kitchen with a plate of pasta and placed it on the dining table, in front of Feliciano.

"Uwaa! Really? Thank you fratello!" he smiled brightly.

"Just shut up and eat." He sat down beside Feliciano and watched as the happy Italian digs in.

Game huh? If it's from Japan, then it should be good in some sense. Maybe he will try it later.

* * *

><p><em>I was reading some old doujin i bought and this particular one gave me some inspirations.<em> _So I wrote a fanfiction according to the doujin and the story line is around the same. __However, I made several changes here and there. _

_For one, I included Germany, i don't know why, i just included him.__Second, England and America did not kiss in the doujin. America snapped out of it and started celebrating, then England thought the who thing was just another trick, and started chasing America around with a sword._

_Third, the Italy brothers part is really just bonus. I would really love to write about Spain and Romano after Romano's played the game though. We all know that Romano is the king when it comes to being a tsundere in Hetalia._


	2. Sweet and Bitter Chocolates

England could not stop his heart from pumping so hard, nor could he stop his palm from sweating. When you are so nervous that you could just break down and cry, this was nothing.

Clutching the brown box in his hands, he carefully peeked out from where he was hiding and quickly hid back in his safe corner behind the wall when he spotted the familiar face. Shit, why couldn't he stop trembling?

Since... Since... Since America left that box of chocolate on his desk this valentine's day, then it was only right for him to the return the favor and give him something for white valentine right..?

Ye-Yeah! That's it! He was ju- just following the tradition and all, not like America could actually like him and deliberately gave him the box of chocolate for that reason right..? Maybe America just invented a new flavor and wanted to test it on him? But... It was the normal hazel nut milk chocolate one can find in a particular chocolate shop in London, and also his favourit-.

Ahh! What was he thinking? It was just a coincidence! Knowing America, (Which he swear he does) the simple minded person who couldn't even read the atmosphere would NEVER, EVER, remember such small and unimportant details like his favorite chocolate flavor and all. Bu-but the shop was all the way in London!

"Bloody hell! Get a grip of yourself! This is just a simple act of courtesy and what a gentleman should do. I-I just have to stuff the box to him and i am done! I can do it!" England slapped himself and stuttered, desperately trying to convince himself that it was all just normal with no other intentions.

There was no other intention to begin with... right?

* * *

><p>America rubbed his eyes and fixed his view on the edge of the wall, determined to catch a clear view that 'thing' just now. There it was again! The thing from before! It may just be for a second, but America still could not deny what he saw; thick eyebrows, emerald green eyes... That thing was no doubt England.<p>

But what's with the anxious and nervous expression on his face? He looked like he was going to cry.

... He was holding a box right..? Right?

Could he be waiting for someone? Could that box be a present for that someone? America gasped. Could that someone be him?

He then sighed upon that thought; he was sure that England was not waiting for him. Even though he was the only one who gave England chocolates this year, he could bet a whole week of hamburgers on it that England would NEVER, EVER, give him anything in return. Since, he saw with his own eyes that England found the box of chocolates he purposely left on his desk, and without thinking, shoved it into the dustbin.

Thinking about it now still hurts somehow.

Wa-Wait, why would it hurt? He only gave England the chocolates because he pitied England right? After all, it won't be nice for England to have his 10th consecutive year with not a single chocolate received on valentine's day. That would hurt for sure. R-Right! He only did it because he's a hero! A hero will never let anyone be sad for a reason like that, not even when that 'anyone' is England.

Then...

Who was England waiting for...?

And...

Why does it still feel so funny inside to think if it this way?

Arrg! No! He can't hold t anymore! He has to know! Even if it's not him, he has the right to know who England is gonna give the box to.

Why?

...

Because he is the hero! Yup! Nothing else!

* * *

><p>England jumped when he heard the footstep coming his way, getting closer and closer. He was so nervous that he almost forgot how to breath. What should he do? Crap! No one has ever taught him of ways to handle this at all! Damn! He should have asked the wine bastard about it first...<p>

"England?"

"AHH!" England literally jumped this time, the box dropped to the ground and landed beside the foot of the person responsible for the shock.

"A-A-A- America! Wh-What are you doing here?" England practically forced his self to act calm, but failed when he could not stop shaking.

"I am just going to grab lunch. What are you doing behind a wall?" America asked as he bent down to pick the box up.

"Ah! You can't!" England quickly grabbed the box before America could even touch it and wrapped his arms around it, protecting it as if it was his national treasure instead.

...He's acting so strange... So he was waiting for someone else after all...

"Ahaha! Dude! Chill! You look like you are gonna pee in your pants!" America forced a carefree smile. Even though England sucked at hiding his feelings, doesn't mean he had to do the same. Instead, he guess he will help the poor guy.

Not because of anything else, just because he's a hero!

"I-I am not you g- gi- git!" England shouted back, almost tearing. Shit, if this goes on, he may just get a heart attack.

"Whoa whoa, alright! Chill. I don't know who the unlucky person who's gonna get your awful chocolates is, but she/he will probably get scared and run away if you approach her/him like that." America tried to use sarcasm to hide his disappointment.

A..awful..?

The word morphed into a arrow and shot through England's heart and brain, instantly making him lose control of his emotions.

NO ONE, NO ONE, makes fun of his cooking.

"I MADE IT FOR YOU YOU GIT! BUT IF YOU HATE IT THAT MUCH, THEN GOOD LUCK! HA! NEXT TIME YOU WILL THINK TWICE BEFORE YOU DUMP A BOX OF MY FAVORITE CHOCOLATE ON MY DESK!"England shouted as he threw the box at America and laughed hysterically.

"Next time you want to give me fake hopes, don't do it on Valentine's day! And i don't freaking mean to accidentally throw it down into the bin I thought it was a prank! I thought that! I thought that! Uwaaaaa!" Just a second later, he started crying, one of the stupid shit you get when your stored nervous and anxious feeling for a whole month were suddenly released.

Wait what?

'high hopes' ? 'accidentally throw' ? 'I thought' ? 'for you' ? For him? FOR HIM?

THE CHOCOLATE WAS FOR HIM?

America felt as he just got hit by a huge hammer and stood frozen for a moment, his mind completely blank.

Then he started laughing. First a chuckle, a giggle, then to the happy, crazy laugh.

"BLOODY HELL DO YOU HAVE TO F***ING LAUGH AT ME? I KNOW I AM RIDICULOUS AND PATHETIC BUT-"

"I am happy to get it." America interrupted.

".. Wa- What?" England paused.

"I said i am happy and glad that i am the unfortunate person who is gonna get food poisoning from your present." America beamed.

"As long as it's from you, i will happy accept and eat it." He took a step forward and hugged England tightly.

"..." This time, England got hit by the hammer and got blank.

What the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the the hell.

America just hugged him...

He just hugged him...

Oh My f***kin- he just freaking hugged him!

"LE-LET ME JUST GET THIS STRAIGHT! I AM ONLY RETURNING THE FAVOR! GOT IT? THERE IS NO OTHER INTENTION AT ALL! ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME?" England shouted as his face got super hot.

"Yes, yes. I totally got it." America smiled as England heaved a sigh of relief.

"You totally fell for me because i am the awesome and almighty hero." America continued as he felt England froze.

"WHY YOU LITTL-" England started struggling to get free to punch this idiot who just freaking ruined the moment as America laughed.

"But i fell for you first."


	3. A white Christmas

"Geez! England! I don't mind if you want to get wasted, but will you stop having my number on speed dial and have me clean up your mess every time?" America complained, the drunken England on his back.

"To think it's Christmas eve too… I should be home eating hamburgers with Tony till I am full, not here bring you home. Especially not when you are only wearing that loincloth of yours." American continued to show his unhappiness, despite the fact that England was so drunk that he probably could not hear a thing.

"I am having you pay my plane ticket no matter what this time." He muttered as he tossed England on his bed with a heavy thud and wrapped him up like a mummy with the bed sheet.

"There, now we won't need to worry about your horrible sleeping habits." He grinned and looked at his watch, it was already 11. He should be at home chomping on chocolate cakes by now.

"And now you also owe me a chocolate cake." He shook his head as he offed the lights and was about to close the door when he heard England grumbling.

"_Crap, did I wake him up?" _America thought as he froze on the spot. Great, now he has to tolerate another hour of England and his eternal complaining. He should have brought a comic book and maybe a few hamburgers with him…

"A…America…"

"eh?" America peeked into the room. Did England just call him? But England was still on his bed, all wrapped up thanks to someone.

"Sleep talking I see. Yosh! I will tell everyone else about this and laugh at him!" America's eyes sparkled with the thought of humiliating England.

"America… Don't go." England muttered again, wriggling rather uneasily in that blanket. Anyone would feel uneasy and find it hard to breath if they were being wrapped up using the blanket, but America obviously did not know that.

Upon hearing this, America felt as if he was hit by something. When was the last he heard England sounding so weak? Could it be that he was dreaming about that time again?

"America… Please…" He sounded like he was about to cry.

America sighed, looks like he was staying here after all. He sat beside England on the bed and unwrapped the blanket around him. Holding England's hand, He whispered softly, "I'm here, I'm not going anywhere."

His words worked like a charm as England immediately stopped struggling and a slight grin formed on his face, his hand holding America's hand tightly. This guy, was he really asleep?

Sighing, America looked out of the window, it had started to snow. The chimes from the grandfather's clock in England's living room signalled the arrival of Christmas.

"_Looks like it's going to be a white Christmas this year."_ America thought, remembering the first Christmas he celebrated with England, it was also snowing like this. Wait a minute, the first Christmas... America felt as if someone had just poured a whole bucket of cold water at him.

England, did he still remember that promise?

But it has been so long! That promise itself was something he said when he was a kid! He never thought England would take it that seriously, in fact, he himself did not.

Still, if England did remember that promise, then it would explain why he would waste himself, even on Christmas eve...

* * *

><p>"Arrg, my head hurts…" England groaned as he opened his tired eyes, rubbing his head, "just how much did I drink yesterday?"<p>

Sitting up, he was about to get out of bed when he spotted what he was wearing under the blanket and America sleeping beside him, holding his hand.

"Crap, I must have drunk a lot…" He sighed and looked at America, who was sleeping soundly and despite the freezing weather, did not use a blanket to keep himself warm. Then again, his fats were probably enough.

"_That bloody idiot, wearing is glasses even when he was sleeping._" England thought as he carefully removed the glasses.

England smiled as he covered America with the blanket, no matter how annoying and idiotic America was all the time; he stayed here the whole night to take care of him. Still, he must have said something embarrassing yesterday for America to leave his hamburgers and stay here.

"Umm… England?" America suddenly opened his eyes and asked, scaring the shit out of England.

"AH…Ah… I am not helping you because I am grateful or anything, I am… I JUST DON'T WANT TO TAKE CARE OF YOU WHEN YOU GET A COLD AT MY PLACE. " England shouted and looked the other way, his face getting hotter. Like hell he will let America know that he still care for him. Not in a million years.

America, used to England's Tsundere-ness, simply smiled and sat up, "yes, yes, I will take care not to fall sick at your place."

"A…Erm… About yesterday, sorry if I said anything weird, but you did not have to stay and accompany me you idiot." England stuttered, still avoiding eye contact.

"EH? Is that what you are supposed to say to someone who accompanied you through the night? You are the one who asked me to stay you know~" America said cheekily.

"I DID WHAT YOU BLOODY IDIOT- I mean… Th…Thank you" He whispered.

"What? I missed that." America joked, but got hit in the face by a pillow.

"LISTEN CAREFULLY WHEN SOMEONE IS TALKING YOU BIRD BRAIN!" England blew his top once again.

"Now now, it is ok, because I am the hero!" America did his signature pose.

England facepalmed. He forgot that America cannot be treated as a normal person.

"Ne, England."

"What?" England lifted his head, just in time to receive a kiss on the cheek from America.

England's mind went blank as America took this opportunity to run away.

"AMERICA YOU IDIOT!" England's swearing sounded behind America, followed by several flying scones aimed at him.

"Merry Christmas, England!" America laughed.

* * *

><p><em> * America's first Christmas*<em>

_"Look, this is snow." England said as he placed the young America on the snow covered ground._

_"Snow?" America asked and out of curiosity, scooped up some snow from the ground using his hand and shoved them in his mouth. Immediately, he felt as if his tongue was going to freeze and it felt as if someone was pricking his head with a needle. He had just experienced his first brain freeze._

_Spitting it out, he complained,"England, this snow taste horrible!" _

_"Hahaha, they are not for eating. Come on, lets go back into the house, today is Christmas, I will cook something good." England laughed at the child's foolish yet innocent act and carried the little fella into the house._

_"Christmas?"_

_"Yup, it is a day in the year where families would gather together and celebrate the birth of Jesus. On Christmas, people decorate their houses, sing songs, eat Christmas food and give presents to the ones they love." England answered as he put the pan on the stove._

_"Then, then i want to celebrate every Christmas with you!" America suddenly announced with determination._

_A bit startled by America's reaction, England looked at America for a while, and then asked why._

_"Because you said that we have to celebrate Christmas with the ones we love, right? I love England the most!" America replied as he ran forward and hugged England's legs. (height issues)_

_Upon hearing this, England smiled warmly as he squatted down and hugged America back, "And i love you the most. Okay, we will celebrate __every __Christmas together, I promise."_

_The little America, overjoyed with the answer, kissed England on the cheek, "England, that was my present for you this year! Marry Christmas! (he meant merry christmas)" He said as he smiled innocently._

_England smiled and returned him a kiss ,"Merry Christmas to you too!"_


	4. Blackout

_Ok, I am bored and I don't want to update my other stories yet, so here comes a one shot._

* * *

><p>"Tell me again why you are here in the middle of the night?" England stared at the uninvited guest standing in front of his door.<p>

"To watch a movie! I bought this totally cool and scary horror movie and I thought I would share it with you." America showed England the box of DVD with a huge grin on his face.

"Look, you may have too much energy, but I need my sleep, and if you are too scared to watch it yourself, go ask that friend of yours." England slammed the door shut and yawned. He did not sleep for a whole 30 hours, trying to finish that pile of paperwork his boss dumped on him. All he wanted now was to sleep.

"But Tony went back to his planet to visit his parents! England! Let me in! It is dark and cold out here!" America persisted his shouting for a total 10 minutes before England finally lost it.

"Will you bloody shut up?" England shouted as he opened the door again, glaring at America with his bloodshot eyes, freaking America out a little.

"AHHHH! England! You look like one of those zombies from Japan's computer games!" America exclaimed.

"So leave me alone and let me sleep, you git!" England growled as his head started to hurt.

Great, what's next?

"Aww! Come on! The movie only lasts for 1 hour! You can sleep after that!" America convinced as he pushed England inside, entering the house as well.

"Fine, only one!" England gave up and figured that he could sleep while America freaks himself out with all his lame non-horror movies.

* * *

><p>"And, if you look here at the corner of the photo, you can see a ghost being captured!" The character in the movie exclaimed as he pointed to the left corner of the photo.<p>

Meanwhile, America screamed and hid his face in the out of shape pillow that he was hugging with too much force. England stared at the screen and at America again, not sure of how he should react. This would be in the least scary or interesting to him, and yet it freaked America out so much.

….What exactly is this guy's definition of scary?

Either way, with that much screaming, England won't be able to fall asleep no matter what. He sighed, how boring.

"UWAA! That thing is in the room! Don't go inside it!" America warned the characters in the movie despite knowing that they won't be able to hear him. So the two main characters happily opened the door that America dreaded so much and were immediately greeted by a zombie with half of its head rotting and the other half coated in blood and grime.

The characters screamed, and so did America, freaked out by the sudden scare. He threw the deformed pillow aside and went to seek comfort from the nearest soft object, England. Yet, his eyes were still glued to the screen.

"Ah! America! Let go of me! You are strangling me!" England shouted as he struggled to escape from or at lease loosen America's hug.

"It is going to eat me! Oh my god I am going to die!" America continued his screaming and ignored England, hugging him tighter.

"If you don't let go of me soon, I AM GOING TO DIE OUT OF SUFFOCATION!" England tried kicking America away, but America's arms were wrapped around him like the tentacles of an octopus.

"OMG Its so gross! Run Jane! Its catching up with you!" America warned the character called Jane as the ugly and scary zombie chased after her, getting closer every moment.

Meanwhile, England was close to passing out.

"AHHH!" Another ear piercing scream was heard as the zombie caught up with Jane and tore her into pieces alive, feeding on her flesh.

"UWAAAAA!" America tightened his grasp by accident thanks to the sudden scare and immediately squeezed the daylight out of England.

The screen was then filled with blood, turning it red, then black to signal the end of the show. America, noticing the suddenly quiet room, looked up to find himself in total darkness. He then looked at England, who had passed out at the wrong time.

"Ahh! England! Wake up! Don't leave me alone in a dark place like this! Where is the switch in this place?" America panicked as he shook England, desperately trying to get England to wake up.

But a lack of sleep and oxygen ended up with an extremely tired and sleepy England who probably won't wake up no matter what. Then again, this was America we were talking about; he who does the impossible.

Grabbing the cup of coke on the table beside them, America did not hesitate at all before he poured it on England, immediately shocking the poor guy up, both wet and surprised.

"De-ack! America! What the bloody hell are you thinking? What did you pour on me?" England smelled his shirt and wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"England! I am so glad you woke up! For a minute there, I thought you were so scared that you had a heart attack and died! Where is the light switch in this place? It is so dark I can hardly see you." America heaved a sigh of relief.

"ANYONE WOULD PASS OUT OF THEY WERE HUGGED BY A MONSTER LIKE YOU!" England shouted angrily. He? Scared? Please, he may be scared of something else, but definitely not one of America's movies. Come on, a stripping France was scarier than this.

"Tch. Either way, the movie is finished, so get out of my house before I have to kick you out." England stood up and reached for the light switch.

"But it is 1 am! Can't I just stay here for the night? This is such a big house, you are sure to have an extra room!" America suggested, the idea of walking down the dark and deserted road to get home was not a good idea, especially when it was right after a movie.

"Then you should have thought of that before you come budging in people's house and disturbing them!" England scolded. That's weird, the switch was not working. Did the light bulb fused?

"Come one! It is just one night!" America refused to give up, as usual.

"-Sigh- Fine. Just stay in your room. I am going to sleep." England gave in, his top priority was to sleep and quarrelling with America can wait. He then walked to his own room, leaving America in the dark living room.

"What about the light?"

"Ah, that. It seems that there is a blackout. Good luck sleeping in the dark room after that movie." England stopped in his tracks, turned around, and smirked.

America's eyes widened.

* * *

><p>England laughed as he walked into his room and plopped himself on the soft and comfortable bed after locking the bedroom door, imaging how America would be freaking out by now. But instead of the expected screaming and begging for him (England) to let him in, he heard a soft sobbing.<p>

"Hell. Looks like I am never sleeping tonight." England rolled his eyes and left his comfortable bed, going back to the living room with a torch.

America was still sitting on the same sofa when he last saw him, but America was slightly shivering. Okay, so maybe the movie this time really got America. England sighed again; why didn't he see this coming?

"When are you ever going to grow up and stop having me babysit you?" England remarked sarcastically as he sat beside America.

"But I am a grown up!" America looked up at England with slightly red eyes and argued.

"You are crying because of a movie."

"I am not!"

"You were shivering and sobbing."

"I shivered because I was cold!" America was in denial.

"…" England was speechless.

"…" America had no idea what to say either, and they both of them just stared at each other.

"Fine, I lost. Only for today, you can come and sleep with me, alright?" England broke the silence and replied in a somewhat familiar and kind tone. "So wipe your tears dry. I taught you to be a better gentleman than that."

"I- if you asked, I guess sleeping with you for one night won't kill. But I am only doing it because you asked!" America stuttered.

"Yes, yes. Let's hurry up and go to my room already. I am so sleepy I can die." England rushed and pulled America up from the sofa and held his hand throughout the walk to his bedroom.

America could not help but remember how England was able to calm him down with all these little, simple and yet effective actions like holding his hands or using that soft and kind tone. Thinking back, England was always there when he needed him. Despite the cursing and swearing, he guess he could say that England do care about him all these time.

"Alright, you take the left side and I will take the right. If you dare kick me out of bed or hog the blanket, it's back to the living room. Got it?" England ordered as he changed into a shirt that was not soaked in coke.

"You are talking like I have really bad sleeping habits." America complained as he got himself comfortable on the bed.

"Am I wrong in anyway?" England mocked as he smirked. "If you want me to prove it, I can show you that album of you where you were young. I have many ones with you getting stuck in the toi-"

"I GOT THE POINT! LET'S SLEEP!" America interrupted England from spilling the embarrassing moments when he was young.

"You were so cute and lovable back then. Where did I go wrong with you?" England asked himself as he got onto the bed as well.

"I am still lovable!" America protested with a childish expression on his face.

England could not help but chucked at that, the America now really reminded him of the past.

"Yes, yes. Whatever you said." England smiled and out of habit, kissed America on the cheek, like how he would always do that before he tuck the young America to bed.

But this, was not the same America and England too, realized that when America's face looked like a tomato.

"Ah- Err- I…" England was having a lack of words as he felt his face got hotter too. "Nothing happened! Nothing!" England went for the most unreasonable approach; denying what he had just done.

"Ye-Yeah! Nothing at all! Ahaha… What are we doing? Let's sleep! I am tired!" America laughed awkwardly and the both of them turned away, their back facing each other.

Then, the room became dead quiet and all they could hear was the sound of breathing, and their violently thumping hearts. As much as they wanted to deny it, something did happen, and it was not normal.

England did not know what was going through his mind when he kissed America, but his heart was telling him to give him another shot while his mind struggled to restrain him. America hated him, ignoring whatever he had to say, making fun of him every day, calling him a tea freak… Things between them were never peaceful after that small declaration. How could he bring himself to tell America that he could not allow independence, because he could not bear to let him go? …America would never like him again, and he must be disgusted by that kiss just now.

But why won't his heart calm down?

America still could not believe that England kissed him. There was no way that the person who was always disagreeing and going against him would do that right? He was sure that England did not forgive him for the scar that he left on him when he wanted independence. Even if he were to tell England that he wanted independence to be treated equally; not his little brother, but somehow who he can depend on, someone who can protect him now, England probably won't buy it.

So why was he still clinging onto that small chance of England still liking him?

"It was all out of habit right? Yup, that must be it! Nothing else but an old practice too familiar to forget. Nothing changes with that, nothing at all." Both England and America thought to themselves, feeling rather gloomy. "Then…"

"When will he ever willingly kiss the 'me' now?"

"When will he ever like me again?"


	5. Yet another meeting

**This is going to be a short one because well, i have no idea how to elaborate on it...**

**Got the idea from a super cute picture on facebook.**

* * *

><p>England's always hated long meetings. They were never productive, nor enjoyable. But it's something he had to do. It was either the long and boring meeting or a talk session with his boss, then a date with the pile of paperwork. With the options he had, choosing wasn't exactly hard. So when he was rudely woken up by his boss via the phone and told of a last minute meeting that was to be held in his place in 8 hours, England scoffed and swore, yet managed to crawl out of his warm and comfortable bed to get washed up and ready for the torturous session.<p>

"So I said, 'why don't we settle down and have a glass of wine at my place? Lovely young lady?' and I could tell from her eyes instantly. Oh Mon Dieu, she was deeply in love with moi." France narrated with some winking and questionable grins while Spain and Romano listened. The first with a friendly grin as he laughed with his friend and the second one with a frown, unwilling to respond even when Spain talked to him.

_'There goes the bloody frog' _Resting his hand on the table and supporting his chin with the other, England rolled his eyes. '_Seriously. What's with that boss and the bloody last minute meetings anyway? All the meeting really does is waste my time as that bloody wanker blabbers off about his 'flirting' experience. Hell, I could be doing something productive, like sleeping. Yes! Sleeping! I could be freaking resting right now and maybe replenishing some energy for the paperwork he's going to dump on me later_.'

"Ve~ Germany, are we going for lunch later? Are we?" Italy tugged at Germany's sleeve and asked with a dazed smile on his face, "Lunch would be great~. Can we have pasta? Pasta is nice. I would love to have pasta, we are having pasta right? Pasta~~~" He chanted as both Germany and England facepalmed.

_'The same bloody thing every single meeting._' England was resisting the temptation to rest his head on the desk. He's dead tired, and this meeting's obviously not going anywhere. He turned to the left and spotted America, who was sitting right beside him, some opened filed were placed on the table in front of him. '_Any moment now_,' he thought '_the 'hero''s going to say something stupid.' _England sat back straight with that thought in mind. The only thing he can look forward to during a meeting is a good session of quarreling with America, just to prove him wrong.

It's not like he hated America or anything. If he did, he would have treated America like France and instead of bothering to use sarcasm, punch him straight in the face. Though that wouldn't be very smart, America was not as weak and useless as France. Also, instead of hating him, England was actually quite fond of America.

He hates to admit it, and he will probably never tell anyone, but he couldn't shake the weird feeling in his heart when he's near America. It's not like how most romance novels would describe it. No there was definitely no butterfly in his stomach, nor was his heart beating nonstop. But it just felt weird, like he was somehow attracted to that guy. Maybe he's just sick or hallucinating due to a lack of sleep. With the tight schedule and amount of work waiting for him, the short sleeping hours comes naturally.

'_That bearded frog's probably going to join us in the bloody quarrel and create chaos_' England adjusted his tie out of boredom while Japan reported on the situation in the background, "_Then Germany's going to lose it and shout at the top of his lungs-Doesn't he ever get a sore throat or anything?_" His train of thoughts was leading him to somewhere completely random, but he wasn't intending to bring it back on the right track any sooner.

Two more hours to go. Two dreadful and painfully boring hours.

England sighed and flipped through the printed papers in front of him absentmindedly, if only he could just get out of here and-

"Let's have a break." Germany suddenly stood up and announced with his loud and clear voice. Immediately, all the present countries looked up at him, not sure if they should be surprised by Germany's sudden movement, or the fact that Germany was asking for a break. Of all people, Germany.

"Germany kun, it's rather rare for you to call for a break. Is everything alright?" Japan tilted his head a little as he gave Germany a puzzled look.

"We are not going to make any progress even if this goes on for another day." Germany glared at the snoozing Italy, then at England- no, at America, who was oddly quiet today. "Everyone, come back here in one hour's time. Meanwhile, freshen up and get ready for the next round. This is an order. Dismissed." He declared and grabbing Italy's collar, dragged him out of the meeting room as the others followed.

In a minute or two, all except two left the room.

England stretched a little, yawned and started to tidy up his papers. There's no doubt that the meeting today's going to end like any other meetings, without any progression or results. Though it seemed a little more dead today. Normally they would at least have America's ridiculous idea to start a disagreement with, but that person just had to be quiet today.

"hey America, Why the sudden-" England's voice trailed off when he turn around and saw America sprawled on the papers on the table, fast asleep. So that was why America was so quiet today, he's too tired to even stay awake, not to mention coming up with anything.

"Guess your boss's being harsh too huh?" England muttered softly as he observed the person in front of him. The same weird feeling was now growing inside of him as he stare at America. He's really a lot cuter when he's asleep and quiet, much more likable this way too. Okay, so if this feeling of his was really affection, what's he supposed to do next?

England sighed and lifting his left hand, poked America's face gently. "Idiot, a hero is not supposed to have any eye bags on him." England gently traced the eye bags under America's eyes with his finger, making sure that his movement was not too much to wake him up. Then, England glanced left and right to make sure that the room was empty, and without thinking, quickly but gently bent down and gave America a kiss on the cheek.

"Get some rest next time, bloody git." Finally realizing what he had just done, England whispered beside America's ears before tip toeing out of the room, blushing profusely as he closed the door gently behind him. He could not explain what happened just now or why he did that, but his thumping heart was giving him enough clues. He needed some fresh air for now, to wake a little, and to cool down.

* * *

><p>America did not expect any of that.<p>

He always thought that England hated him.

Well maybe not the way England hated France, because if he did, they would be fighting every time they met. But he certainly did not expect THAT. Well he did not expect the sudden meeting as well.

Come on, his boss practically charged into his room when he was just about to sleep after working on the papers for the whole night and gave him the plane tickets and materials. That's it. Not even a call to acknowledge him about meeting. No informing, no nothing. It's already a miracle that he managed to stay awake for so long.

But that was nothing compared to the mere 5 minutes just now.

America felt his face go hot as he thought back on it.

England just kissed him. Even though it's on the face, England just freaking kissed him.

What was he supposed to do anyway? If he decide to wake up half way, he would just end up staring back at England and it would turn out to be super awkward. He wouldn't want that. ... So, now what?

America sighed and sat back up, his face still burning red. Maybe he should go and ask France for some advice. That person should be able to tell him what to do when his crush kisses him on the cheek without knowing that he was awake.

* * *

><p>Well that wasn't very short.<br>Pardon me, my brain is quite dead now and it's hard to really think of anything.  
>But here it is, another one-shot. I am just going to lie on something before i just facedesk here and start sleeping... OTL<p> 


	6. happy birthday, you git pt 1

America was lying on his bed, tossing and turning and desperately trying to get some sleep. He needed the sleep since tomorrow's going to be a big day for him, but he just couldn't. It's been so long since that day, and he thought that things would've changed by now.

"Aww man… I skipped my supper of 12 hamburgers just so that I can have a good sleep today…" America let out a sigh as he sat back up on the bed.

He reached for the table lamp on the small table beside his bed and switched it on, immediately filling the dark room with a soft and warm orange light. Beside the table lamp was a standing cardboard calendar that Canada gave him after he's almost missed a meeting five times in a month.

"Mark the days with meetings out on this calendar and put it beside your bed. If you miss another meeting, Germany's threatening to kick you out of G8." was what Canada said when he gave his dear brother the calendar with maple leaf prints around the edges.

Unfortunately, America's got better use for it and used the calendar as a countdown device for the big day tomorrow instead. At least he managed to be on time for the meetings. Well, most of the time.

Running his finger down the embroiled golden maple leaves, America picked the calendar up and placed it on his pillow when, from between one of the two pages, a card fell out and slid down the pillow before landing in America's lap.

The card itself was made of one of those really high quality and expensive paper; the two ends were folded up together to form something like the cover of a book. It had a smooth and pearl white surface and at the very front of the folded card, written in cursive golden letters, was the word 'Invitation'

He thought things would have changed by now, but it didn't.

"Maybe he'll accept it next year…" America muttered with a tone that couldn't fool anyone, it couldn't even fool himself.

He's been saying that sentence every year for … How long? Wasn't there this saying that goes like "time heals all wounds"? It's been centuries! How long will it take for that person's wound to heal? Then again, they were countries. To them, centuries were probably like days.

America was about to put the invitation card under his bed to keep it away for good; that's where all the previous rejected cards went anyway, when someone knocked on his bedroom door.

"America, brother, are you asleep?" In came Canada's soft and calm voice.

"Can I say 'Yes'?" America asked with a forced grin as he heard a chuckle from the other side of the door.

"May I come in then? I made hot chocolate."

"You got marshmallows on that?"

"The regular."

"Come on in, my lovely brother and that beautiful cup of hot chocolate!" America exclaimed as he leap up and ran to open the door for Canada.

"See, this is why you'll never lose those weights of yours." Canada joked as he passed America his cup before walking to his bed and sat on it.

"Dude~~~ That's totally not true! The hero can do anything! I just feel like keeping those extra weights." America argued as he joined Canada and sat beside him.

"So, want to tell me why you're still awake? You are normally a quick and heavy sleeper." Canada asked after taking a sip of hot chocolate. At the same time, he caught a corner of the card sticking out from under the bed.

Really, his brother's choice of hiding spots…

"I skipped supper and got so hungry I couldn't sleep. So I decided to wait for your hot chocolate." America said with a causal tone and went on to gobbling up one of the floating marshmallows.

"Oh really?" Canada bent down, fished the card out from its hiding place and waved it at America, "How' bout you tell me the real reason why you are still awake?" To be honest, he kind of expected this.

It was a routine really. 3 days before the big day, his brother would go wild and start sending invitations to everyone (and people would forget that it was his (Canada's) birthday on that day.). 2 days before the big day, England would start getting grumpier than usual. 1 day before the big day would be… This. His brother's always losing his sleep on the eve of the big day and it's already became a habit of his to bring his brother a cup of hot chocolate on this day; though he was sure that the cup of hot chocolate was not the best solution.

"Dude~~! Not cool!" America reached out to get the card back, but Canada wasn't going to let him till things were settled.

"Come on, spill it. I'm determined to get it out of you this time." Canada interrogated, the hand with the card was still raised high up.

"…" America stopped struggling to get the card back and just stared into Canada's concerned eyes.

"Well? If you're not gonna say it, I'll just have to look at the card." Canada threatened as he lowered his hand a little, but still managed to keep the card out of America's reach. He knew what's wrong, of course. He always did. But hearing it from his brother, that would be a first.

"Okay okay! I'll talk!" America admitted defeat as he finished the contents in the cup in one gulp. He swore, Canada was using this opportunity to get back on the times he threw the baseball in his face… Or that time he chased him around with a chainsaw, or that time when he swapped the maple syrup with glue, or that time he… Okay, the guy's definitely getting back on him for something.

Noticed how England's being extremely grumpy these few days? You know, more grumpy than usual. In fact I think his eyebrows became thicker too." America recalled.

"I'm sure anyone who's met him lately would've noticed." Canada nodded, though he wasn't quite sure about the eyebrows part.

"Well, it's got something to do with my birthday tomorrow."

"Go on." Canada decided to carry on with the ignorant act.

"Like, you know, the whole thing about me wanting independence from him?"

"Brother, I know. I was still with England when that happened, I know."

"What you don't know is how much I've hurt him."

Canada thought about that period of time and the memory of England secretly crying every night was still crystal clear. "Well actually…" He's got a pretty good idea of how upset and hurt England was.

"But it's been centuries! And I've done everything I can to make it up to him!" America stood up

"Like?"

"I helped him won World War ll!"

"…You only joined because you were attacked as well."

"I helped him when he was having financial problems!"

"… You caused most of them in the first place."

"Dude you're not helping." America gave Canada the 'are-you-really-here-to-cheer-me-up?' look.

"Okay, you've tried everything to make it up to England, got it. Please continue." Canada gestured for America to go on.

"But he's just so stubborn! It's been centuries, and he's obviously not forgiven me yet!" America protested.

"How are you sure that he's not forgiven you? I mean, things like that really depends on perspective." Canada tilted his head a little; curious about the answer America would give.

"I've been inviting him to my birthday party for hundreds of years now! But he's never accepted any of them."

"Including this year?"

"Including this year." He droop his head and sat on a chair, slouching.

"…" Canada was sure that England's forgiven America, but he can't quite blame his brother for not noticing it. However, getting England to come for his brother's birthday party was another thing. No matter how good a wound's been healed, it's definitely left a horrible scar.

Coming to America's birthday party would mean ripping that scar open again. England knew that and Canada knew that too. But America, one of the few who should know it, didn't. He sighed, yet another case of inability to read the atmosphere.

"Tell you what brother, why don't you have a good night's sleep for now? Tomorrow's going to be really tiring for you." Canada stood up, placed his cup on the table as he pulled America up from the chair to his bed and almost forcefully tuck him in.

"But I'm not sleepy!" America argued and yawned at the same time, totally doing a good job and being persuasive.

"Right, you're not." Canada smiled helplessly as he walked to the door with 2 empty cups. "I'll wake you up in the morning, so go ahead and have a good rest." He assured before closing the door behind me.

"Mattie," America suddenly called as the door was about to shut.

"Yes? Do you want a cup of water first?"

"Thank you." He said in a surprisingly soft tone.

"What are brothers for? Good night." Canada smiled as he gently closed the door.

Now then, to prepare for his brother's present and party.

* * *

><p><strong>... Literally doing this last minute, and it's 2 hours pass my bed time QAQ<strong>

**Anyway, hope you enjoyed my not-so-America-ish America and the really caring Canada. Really lovely siblings, both of them.**

**Anyway there's a part 2~ so totally wait for it. ;D**


	7. happy birthday, you git pt 2

"Mattie!" America shouted as he rushed down the stairs to the kitchen in his pajamas, grabbing his own shirt in one hand and the staircase railing in the other, looking rather flustered. "What happened to waking me up?"

"Good morning to you too, America. Happy birthday!" Canada congratulated, becoming the first to greet his brother.

"Dude! That's not the point here! I'm late!" America exclaimed as he took the toast Canada offered and wolfed it down in 2 bites.

"Late? For what? Is it important?" Canada asked, rather puzzled. Not a lot of things could push his brother's panic button.

"Life and death. I've thought about it yesterday, and as a hero, I cannot let this rest without giving a fight!" America ended his short but inspiring speech with a heroic pose as Canada passed him a glass of milk to wash the toast down.

"So you're going to find England?" Canada asked with a smile, glad to know that his brother's finally trying to make a difference.

"Yup! England's never even looked at the card before sending it back to me with the envelop still in tact, so this time, i'll bring the invitation to him personally. He's gonna have to look at it!" America told Canada of his plan, sounding extra confident.

"Then you better hurry up before England decides to go on his daily walk." Canada looked up at the clock hung on the kitchen's wall, then at America again.

"Oh shit! I almost forgot! Wish me luck!" America threw Canada another one of his signature grin and charged out of the house like a bull seeing red.

"All the best brother! Remember to come back on time for the party!" Canada shouted out as he lost sight of America.

"Got it! 3 pm right? A hero can't miss his own party!" America's loud voice answered, followed by the starting sound of his car's engine. It's a great thing that the countries just had an meeting conducted by America, most of them were still staying in hotels, waiting to celebrate America's birthday before heading home.

"That's what you always say before dashing in from the front door 30 minutes after things had started." Canada sighed and shrugged. Ah well, he's got other things to worry about, such as the party food.

* * *

><p>"Good afternoon sir, may I help you?" the man behind the hotel's counter asked with a professional smile.<p>

"Yes, I would like to speak to Mr Arthur Kirkland. He lives in the VIP suit on the 20th floor." America replied, being careful to use England's human name for better understanding. Normal people would think he's crazy if he's trying to find 'England' in a hotel. Then he would just be asked to leave the hotel by the security guards in a 'nice' manner.

"Mr Kirkland is it? May I please know your name sir?" the man asked as he picked up the phone on his desk.

"Tell him that someone called Alfred won't leave unless he's willing to talk to him and listen to what he's got to say." America instructed as the man simply nodded and moved on with the call.

While waiting for the call to get through, America fidgeted with his fingers as he ran the whole procedure of talking to England in his mind again, afraid that he would mess up somewhere. He always did.

"I'm sorry sir, but it seems that Mr Kirkland is not in at the moment, he did call this morning to have us deliver the breakfast to him earlier than usual." The man explained with an apologetic tone.

"Oh... Alright. Do you by any chance know where he might have gone to?" America felt both relieved and upset to know that he had missed England. At least he wouldn't have to worry about messing up. But where could he be?

"I'm sorry sir, I'm afraid that I have no idea." The man's reply was yet another disappointing one.

"It's alright, I'll just have to find him by luck. Thanks." America gave the man a nod and a wave before leaving the hotel. Alright, plan B. He needed a plan B.

It wasn't hard coming up with one, England's not at home, and from the years of experience, that guy didn't quite like wandering about in an unfamiliar place. If that's the case, then he shouldn't be far from the hotel. America's frown eased into a slight grin with that thought. Tracking someone who's always in a extremely formal suit, a head of messy pale blonde hair and thick eyebrows can never be harder than finding a fast food restaurant in his place.

Then again, England wasn't exactly unfamiliar with America's place...But America decided to ignore that detail and went straight to the park beside the hotel, starting his search there.

The park was around the size of 2 football fields, but since the lake at the center of the park took up half the area, all America really had to cover was around the area of 1 football field. The place was filled with parents who brought their kids out to play and all sorts of sports and activities were going on. Football, Frisbee, kite flying, rope skipping... You name it.

America can't help but feel nostalgic as he watched a father teach his son to play football. The father had such a kind and loving gaze at the son, who's smiling with all his heart. It was all too familiar, all too hard for him to not remember his own childhood. To the young him, England was his everything, and he loved England very much. He could feel that England loved him as much- no, he was sure that England loved him more than anything in the world.

"Looks like he's not here." America said it out aloud, trying to distract himself from that thought. It would just make him feel more guilty than usual. he didn't need that now, not on his birthday.

As he walked out of the park, feeling a little down after all the memories, America pondered over where England would go next. Since England loved books, the library would be a great choice. Then again, supposed that you were reminded of the day when someone dear to you 'betrayed' you and left you crying in the rain, you would and should be so upset that you can't bother to read a word. Maybe he should give the pub a try...

America looked down at his watched and found it an hour to 3. The library is east of the hotel and the pub to the west, he's only got enough time to cover one place. A fifty percent chance of finding England and hopefully bring him to his birthday party could also mean a fifty percent chance of him finding nothing and having to spend this year's birthday like all the other ones. He couldn't take the risk of that, can he?

"I'll just have to hurry up and cover both places." America told himself as he pulled his bomber jacket on a little tighter and with the count of three in his mind, dashed for the library first.

* * *

><p>Canada looked up at the clock on the wall, 4 o' clock.<p>

All the guests were here and all the food and decorations were ready an hour ago, so where's his brother?

He picked the house phone up and called America's cell phone again, only to get directed to the voice mail for the 5th time. Didn't he tell his brother to be on time? Why is it that America never listens to him?

"He's still not picking up?" France asked as he entered the kitchen and stood beside Canada.

"I don't think he's got his phone with him at all. He left in a hurry after all." Canada sighed. Some day, he swore, some day he's gonna glue his brother's phone to the jacket. There's no way he can forget it that way.

"We can't start the party without him, can we?" France asked as Canada shook his head

"It's his party after all." Canada shrugged.

"Mon Dieu, if England would just agree to come in the first place." France shook his head in dismay, he had a pretty good idea how stubborn that eyebrows can be.

"It's not England's fault. If I put myself in his shoes, I won't want to come too. It would be like celebrating the day you've lost the one person who's probably the most important person in your life. It must be very painful." Canada suddenly said.

"Isn't America sad too? The happiest day of the year, that one day when you are definitely special, is also the day you saw the person who you loved break down before you." France replied and flipped his hair to the side.

"If only they can both see each other's pain." Canada sighed.

"From the looks of things, that day is still far away." France nodded.

Just as they were about to drift into another discussion about how small decisions could make all the difference in the world, the door bell rang. Both looked up with bright eyes and dashed for the door with one thing in mind.

_They could finally start the party._

* * *

><p>America trudged down the empty street that would lead to his house, both disappointed and worried. He couldn't find England in the library nor the pub, which was not a good thing. What if he's hiding somewhere and crying over the whole thing again? What if he got wasted and was running about in his loin cloth? What if he's being put in jail for that? Oh god, the possibilities were infinite.<p>

Then, it was the fact that he was late for his own birthday party. It's 4.30 pm on his watch now and he's officially 1 hour and 30 minutes late for the party. His own party that Canada's been busy planning for weeks. Speaking of which, wasn't Canada's birthday just a few days ago? Why wasn't there a celebration? Did he even wish his brother a 'happy birthday'? Or did he just forgot about it since he was too busy sending invitation cards to everyone?

Till this point, America felt like such a horrible brother.

Reaching his house, America stood in front of the wooden door and pondered over what he should do. Sure it's his party and knowing Mattie, he won't start the party unless his brother's present. God the guests must be freaking impatient by now. So he didn't really have much of a choice other than to go in and maybe have a tomato or two being thrown at him by one of the few hot tempered guests...

"..." America placed his hand on the door knob and took a deep breath, he readied himself and opened the door, "Mattie! I'm back!"

The moment the door was opened, America had to quickly duck down to miss the tomato that was flying at him. He was right after all, some guests were just not that patient.

"Goddammit! It's about time you decide to show up! What kind of idiot are you? Being late for your own party?" Romano scolded as he tossed another tomato at America.

"Now now Roma~, we're all worried about him too. Why don't you let him in first?" Spain hugged Romano from the back and started dragging him away from America, who was rather... Stunned.

"Fucking hell! let go of me you freaking tomato bastard! Why the heck would I worry about a hamburger idiot? I'm just freaking bored of waiting for him to come back!" Romano snapped as he struggled to get free from Spain's hug, though impossible.

"Happy birthday, America Kun! May this year's celebration be a special one." Japan greeted with a warm smile. Beside him, Germany simply nodded at America and tossed him a wrapped present.

"Thanks Japan and Germany! I'm not so sure about the special part, but I'm sure glad you guys came!" America laughed.

"Ve~~ happy birthday America! I wanted to buy you the book of atmosphere as a birthday present, but i can never find it." Italy popped up from behind Germany, also holding a rectangular and wrapped present in his hand. "So Japan and I decided to get you some computer games instead!" he smiled.

"Dude! That's totally awesome! Thanks alot!" America gave Italy a hi 5, "Don't worry about the book, we'll find it some day!" he grinned while the other countries besides Italy felt a sweat droplet trickle down their back.

"Brother! You're finally back! Where have you been?" This time was Canada, look extremely relieved to see his brother back in one piece.

"Ahaha... Sorry for making you worry Mattie, I kind of wandered around..." America laughed sheepishly as he scratched the back of his head. Canada simply answered with an understanding smile, he was pretty sure of what his brother was actually doing.

"Why don't we all move into the living room first aru? We are already late, so let's get the party started." China suggested as the others nodded.

"Non, non! That won't do!" France shook his head in disagreement as every directed their attention to him, some filled with rage and hunger. "America has to do one more thing before he can start the party, remember?" France reminded as a sense of realization hit everyone, except America of course.

"Hmm? What? Do I have to do the laundry or something?" America asked, puzzled.

"Non~! Big brother is too romantic to make you do something like that!" France winked and sent shivers down several countries' spine.

"hmhmm~ America, all of us here each have a flower with us, da." Russia smiled as he held up a stalk of rose plant with one yellow rose bud in his hand.

"All of us except me of course." Canada said as he lifted his hand to eye level. In it was a tall and milky white vase with a broad base and neck but a narrow body. The vase was filled with some water.

"... Please tell me that's not your present for me. I'm horrible with plants." America's looking quite troubled.

"Kesesese, you can always use it as a cup!" Prussia laughed while Germany facepalms and Hungary hit his head with her good old fry pan, enough hint for him to keep quiet and if possible, sensible

"You put the flowers in them." Ice said as he placed his stalk of yellow rose bud into the vase, followed by the other Nordics. That's 5 rose buds in total.

"We'll start the party when you've collected all 30 roses, so please do you best!" Belgium smiled as she walked up to America with Netherlands, Spain and Romano. All four of them inserted their stalks of rose buds into the vase.

Next up were the G8 members, well, excluding England, Canada who gave him the glass, and himself. That was another 5 down. America was then told that some of the countries were hiding in the house itself and it's his duty to find them and get the 's what he did. He found the Asians on the second level, and got the roses from China, Hong Kong , Taiwan, Vietnam and Thailand.

Finding Belarus was easy, All America had to do was shout that Russia sucked and Belarus immediately appeared in front of him with a knife in her hand. After some persuading for her to put her weapon down and promising to never talk bad about her brother again (Well... At least not aloud and not in front of her), Belarus finally unwillingly handed him the rose bud, which was surprisingly pink and not yellow like the others.

Ukraine was ... trying her best to hide, but ended up stuck under the bed and couldn't come out when America found her. They had a little game of tug-of-war with the bed before America was finally about to pull the already crying Ukraine out from under the bed and advised her to never do it again. Ukraine was happy to give America her rose bud which was pink, just like her younger sister's. That's another two down.

America was a little surprised to see Austria wandering around on the third level and learnt that he got lost while trying to get back to Hungary in the kitchen, which was located at the first floor. Being able to lose his way in a house really took skills. He brought Austria to Hungary (who was busy killing some awesome guy in the kitchen with her pan) and received a white rose bud from each of them, including Prussia.

Poland got bored of hiding and simply dragged Lithuania out of their hiding spot and approached America. Poland's rose bud was baby pink and Lithuania's rose bud was a nice dark pink. Following Lithuania were Estonia and Latvia, darting their eyes around to look out for Russia as they gave America the 2 white rose buds.

Twenty eight roses so far, so there's only 2 more roses to go. America looked at the list of guests Canada gave him before the rose hunt, trying to identify the last two countries. He's put a little cross beside the names of the ones who he's already met, and the only one without a cross was... Sealand.

Great, the one who's extremely good at hiding. This should be fun.

America looked high and low and walked up and down the house for 3 times, checking every closet and dark corners that looked like it could be a hiding place. But the attempt ended in vain and he still couldn't locate the usually loud and easy to spot little fella.

Then, an idea hit him as America rushed to the second level's walkway, where people could easily hear him if he were to shout. He took a deep breath and shouted, "Sealand! If you come out right now, I'll recognize you as a country!"

That did the trick and as his voice trialed off, a thump came from the laundry room upstairs, followed by some frantic foot steps.

"Sealand is here desu yo! Now you'll have to admit that I'm a country!" Sealand cheered happily.

"Dude! Where were you hiding? I've searched the laundry room for at least 5 times!" America asked.

"Haha~ Sealand is too smart for you desu yo! I was hiding in the washing machine!" Sealand laughed proudly as he passed America his rose bud, a regular yellow one.

That was it, all the names on the list had the small cross beside them and his vase was now filled with 29 rose buds of yellow, white and different shades of pink. Didn't Belgium say it was 30 roses? America thought about it for a while and simply shrugged as he walked off to the kitchen to find Canada. It's probably a error in counting, the list don't lie.

* * *

><p>"What do you mean I can't start the party yet?" America was getting a little annoyed at France's answer.<p>

"You have to find 30 roses, _mon ami._" France repeated the instruction.

"But there's only 29 people's name on the list!" America showed France the list and pointed at the row of crosses beside the names. "And I'm sure that I've met every one of them!"

"Not everyone." Canada smiled happily as he grabbed America's hand and started walking to the small garden in the backyard. "Come on, I'll bring you to the last person."

America may be blur at times, but from the way Canada was smiling, he knew that something was about to happen, something good. He started guessing who the last person may be, but the only answer he could actually think of was England. He then remembered about what Japan said when he first entered the house. A special celebration huh..?

Canada stopped right in front of the door that led to the back yard and let go of his hand. He turned around looked at his brother in the eyes, "May this be the best birthday ever." With that, he opened the door and without giving America a chance to react, pushed him into the backyard. America, still holding on to the vase of 29 roses, stared at the scenery in front of him and waited for something to happen.

It was then when he heard music.

Someone was playing a really soothing melody on a violin, a familiar melody that he's almost forgotten. America found himself drawn to the music as he started walking, following the source of the music to a more secluded part of the backyard's garden. Brushing a tree's branches aside, America couldn't believe his eyes when he saw the violin player.

Under the the garden's oak tree was a male with a head of pale blonde hair. He had thick eyebrows and his eyes were closed as he played with all his heart. A breeze came by, ruffling his hair and the corners of his shirt while a few leaves left its branch and flew past him.

The last person was none other than England.

For a few moments, America just stood there as he watched England play the violin. When England had finally finished with the melody, he opened his eyes and looked up at America as if he's been expecting him for quite a while now.

"You sure took your bloody time." England placed the violin on a wooden bench beside him.

"Sorry, I didn't think that you would be waiting for me here." America smiled apologetically. "You're still darn good with the violin i see."

"Is it? I haven't played it after you left me." England simply smiled, "That's the last song I've taught you before you've decided to drop the instrument along with me."

"..." So he's still upset about that little war of theirs. "Look England, I-"

"I'm not going to blame you."

"...Huh?"

"I said, I'm not going to blame you. At least not to day." He picked up the stalk of rose on the bench and walked up to America, "They don't call it history for nothing you know." He smiled mysteriously as he put the red rose into the vase. The only rose that was blooming.

"So you've forgiven me for that?" A hope lit up in America's heart as it was reflected in his elated expression.

"I've never blamed you in the first place, idiot." England leaned closer to America and gently kissed him on the cheek. "So stop blaming yourself and enjoy the only day when you're special"

America couldn't care to think and simply pulled England into an embrace.

"The hero's always special, no matter when!" America's so touched he's almost crying, but managed to ruin the moment anyway.

"De- Read the atmosphere! You idiot!" England rolled his eyes at America's bluntness. That's all this idiot's got to say? Did he really have a hamburger for a brain?

"But a hero can only be special, if he has someone to protect." America broke the hug, looked into England's emerald green eyes and smiled warmly. "Thank you for being that person."

England felt his face flush red as he looked away. "W-whatever." He muttered, looking at the ground.

"Happy birthday, you git."

* * *

><p><strong>Yellow rose: Friendship<strong>

**Pink rose: Appreciation**

**White rose: Youthfulness**

**Dark pink rose: Gratitude/ Appreciation**

**Blooming red rose: 'I love you'**

* * *

><p><strong>Omg it's finally done! Q~Q<strong>

**I was so caught up in writing this that I couldn't finish this by his birthday TT^TT**

**I'M SORRY! AMERICA! /bows**

**Anyway, this is part 2/3 of the birthday special. Part 3 is an omake and it covers some details not covered in this chapter.**

**I had fun writing this, especially the rose hunt. I wonder if America's noticed what England's rose for him meant XD Ah well~ will upload part 3 as soon as possible~!**


	8. happy birthday, you git Pt 3

"Sorry for the wait everyone, but we are finally ready to start the party!" Canada stood on a chair and announced, facing the crowd of thirty one nations.

The crowd cheered as people started swarming around the buffet table, where an wide array of delicacies were served, all prepared and cooked by Canada and France. Of course, France made sure that none of England's food got on the menu.

"H-hey, America." England stuttered, the two of them were standing at a corner in the living room, away from the crowd and buffet table.

"Hmm? What's up?" America looked at England with a bright smile, suddenly reminding England of the younger America.

"Are you alright? I mean, it's weird that you aren't eating anything even though this is your party." England asked as he recounted the few other parties when America was busy helping himself to the food. "Shouldn't you be pretty hungry from all the searching?"

"Hmm? I'm totally fine. Like you've said, this is my party, I can eat anytime I like." He grinned.

"Huh... Well can you at least... You know." England looked down at their hands; America's been holding his hand ever since they've entered the house, and was showing no signs of letting go.

"Know what? Dude, you've got to learn to speak your mind. I may be the hero, but I can't read minds you know." America complained in a playful manner.

"You can at least let go of my hand." The idiot's doing it on purpose, he knew it. "Don't you find it embarrassing, it's like every bloody person here's staring at us! At this!" England was practically shouting as he lifted the hand that America was holding.

"Not everyone yet. But if you are going to keep shouting, I'm sure we can easily get their attention! Shall we try that?" America's eyes were literally gleaming with excitement.

England gave himself the mental facepalm, curse this attention-grabbing idiot, curse him.

He was about to give America another good scolding when Canada and France came their way; Canada with a plate of food in his hand while France had two glasses of wine with him. Unwilling to let Canada or France to see their linked hands, England moved a little closer to America and hid their hands behind their back. America simply smiled at England's little action as Canada and France stopped in front of them.

"My my~ a little hot here, isn't it Canada?" France joked as he backhanded some imaginary sweat off his forehead, getting a glare from England and some chuckling from Canada. "Get a room guys. Or if you want, big brother can lend you mine, just for today." he winked at America.

"Not in a million years." England helped return the wink with an annoyed smile as he stepped on France's left foot with all his might, digging the hard soles of his shoe into France's branded shoe before lift his foot away.

France managed to contain the possibly ear deafening yelp (Either from the physical pain, or the pain of having his brand new show ruined under England's han- foot.) and smirked, "hear that America? Remember to ask him again in a million years. After all, to us countries, that's nothing." he threw both America and England a questionable glance and dashed for shelter before England was able to give him a taste of his knuckle sandwich.

"Brother France's words aside," Canada smiled apologetically at England "we are glad to have you here with us this year, England."

"Oh. Don't mention it." England replied with a polite smile. "Though it would have been better if I've actually gotten an invitation." he muttered in a volume loud enough for both America and Canada to hear as the two's eyes widened

"Wait a minute here England, what do you mean by if you've actually gotten an invitation?" America asked in a very urgent tone, as if he was about to make some huge discovery.

"Exactly what i meant. You bothered to send every single country out there an invitation every year without fail, and you just had to leave me out." England rolled his eyes as the brothers' expressions changed again.

"But that's not true! Dude! You're the one who's always sending the invitation back to me without even opening the envelop!" America accused.

"Excuse me? Are you calling me an liar?" England furrowed his eyebrows, obviously a little annoyed.

"But America's telling the truth, he was still extremely depressed just yester-"

"MATTIE! You don't just tell that to him!" America wailed, interrupting Canada and desperately trying to keep that bit of information away from England.

"Ignore him, continue, he was what yesterday?" England leaned a little closer, seeming very interested in what Canada was about to say, his furrowed eyebrows relaxed as a grin slowly spread across his face.

"He was just telling me about how he wanted to apologize to you for being such a jerk and was totally depressed to know that you've rejected his invitation this year too." Canada recalled as he ignored America's frantic shouting/threatening for him to stop.

"Rejected his invitation? I didn't even get one! Like I've told you, I've never ever gotten an invitation!" England exclaimed.

"That's impossible! Wait, i have the invitation with me right now." America stuck his hand into his jacket's side pocket and started rummaging for that envelop containing the invitation card. Normally, he would prepare the cards and Canada would do the posting, but he's always leaving England's card aside so that he could post it himself.

"Why the bloody hell would you have that with you?"

"He's late for the party because he went to the hotel you were staying at in attempt to give you the invitation in person." Canada explained, "Of course, you left the hotel before he entered it."

"It's his fault for turning up at the wrong time. I don't just sit around in a boring old room waiting for someone to turn up; I happen to have a schedule to follow."

"Dude! That's totally not my fault! Canada forgot to wake me up!" America blamed, raising his volume a little as he pulled his hand out of the pocket, holding a slightly crumpled white envelop in it. "See? The invitation!"

Canada watched as England stared at the envelop for a few seconds before slowly taking it from America and opening it up, revealing a folded card made of a piece of smooth pearl white high quality paper. With slightly shaking hands, he took the card out and opened it, reading the few sentences written in the inside:

_Dear England, _

_ I am really sorry to remind you of this day, but I can't help it. I want the person dearest to me to be there and celebrate my birthday with me. It's really selfish and sudden, I know. But just for this time, please let me be selfish and invite you to my birthday. Your presence will be the best birthday present I could ever hope for. _

_-America. _

By the time England's finished reading, Canada's already gone back to join the crowd. Unlike his brother, he was rather skilled in reading atmosphere. America was just standing beside England, calm and still on the outside but panicking like a kid before his first exam on the inside. What he's written in that invitation was exactly what he wanted to tell England, but he's never thought that England would actually be reading it. No matter, he had to clear the doubt. All he could do now was hope that England won't freak out and push him away after reading it.

England on the other hand, was never good at hiding his emotions. For years, he's been wondering if America's hated him. After all, wasn't the whole point of the war to get away from him and be independent? It seriously wouldn't surprise him if America's always been resenting him, and he would continue to believe that if it wasn't for what Canada told him earlier today. He could feel tears swelling up in his eyes, tears of joy and relief.

"H-Hey, are you alright?" America too had noticed that England's about to cry and was totally freaking out. Was a mistake to give England the card after all? Was England crying because he's too mad? What's going to happen now? Panic took hold of America as he instinctively let go of his hand, just to realize that England was now tightly holding his.

Okay, something was definitely wrong here.

"Mattie! Co-" America looked up and was about to ask for backup when he found the living room completely empty. Canada must have foresaw this. Damn.

"You bloody idiot. How in the world is this supposed to reach me," England lifted his head, giving America a clearer view of his face. He was crying alright, tears were streaming down his face and dripping onto the card, creating lots of round water marks.

"if you are not going to paste any stamps on it?" Despite the tears, he was smiling.

America felt something in him melted.

"If you are going to be a real hero, you can never be selfish, you know that?"

America laughed a little at that and looking into England's wet eyes, replied. "I don't need to be a real hero, I just want to be your hero." he put his free hand round England and hugged him gently.

"Sorry for making you wait."

"Don't ever think that I'll forgive you for making me cry every year, with just a single apology!" England sobbed as his tears stained America's favorite shirt.

"Yes, yes." America sighed helplessly as he patted England's back, "A little greedy, aren't you?"

"Shut up." England muttered as he burrowed his face in America's shirt.

"Not until you give me my birthday present." America grinned cheekily as England glared up at him.

"Who the heck is the greedy one here?"

"Aww come on! This is my birthday party after all!"

"I already gave you the rose, didn't I?" England huffed as the two broke from the little hug, but still holding hands

"England, that's cheap. You've got to do better than that."

"Cheap? Why you-... Fine, what do you want? I'll go get you the present later." England had to constantly remind himself that it's America's birthday and it won't be nice to give him a punch on his birthday.

America simply grinned as he pointed to his cheek and winked.

England blushed for the nth time today.

"C-can't I get you a new car or something?" England was still trying to negotiate with America, who simply shook his head and leaned a little closer.

"B-but-"

"If you're not going to agree to this, you can always choose to kiss me here." America pointed to his mouth, grinning mischievously.

Crap, England's cheeks felt like they were burning.

"I-I got it. Heck. J-just one alright?" England stuttered as he shut his eyes and inched forward hesitantly. He had a feeling that America was really enjoying this. Damn him.

While England was still cursing America in his mind, he felt something hit his head, lost his balance and inevitably fell forward. It was then when his lips came in contact with something warm.

Opening his eyes, England found his lips pressed against America's, the both of them had the same enlarged eyes and shocked expression on their faces. Taking less than a second to figure out what's going on, both of them quickly parted, blushing madly.

"There, they kissed, end of mission. Can we cut the damn cake already?" Romano asked as he leaned against the walkway's wall, one hand resting on his hip and the other tossing an apple up and down. Compared to Spain who's never standing still, England was somewhat a much easier target.

England looked down and found an apple lying on the ground near his feet, immediately understanding what's happened.

"Good aiming Romano kun, but next time, let's use something softer." Japan stepped up beside Romano suggested as he shrugged.

_Heck, like hell there's going to be a next time._

Both England and Romano thought.

"Hey! You guys are watching? That's not fair!" America complained in a childish manner as the others came out of their hiding spot.

"Not all of us." Canada beamed, "We were all in the other room, but then Romano got bored waiting and... Don't worry, only the four of us saw what happened." He pointed to France, Romano and Japan.

"Hon hon hon, good job there, America. Big brother's amazed that you managed to get someone like England." France elbowed America's arm, winking.

"I have to say, that was the sweetest thing I've seen in a while." Japan was looking extra delighted with that video camera in his hands...

"Roma~! Here you are!" Spain cuddled Romano from the back, giving the guy a shock. "You should at least tell boss before you dash out. What did i miss?" He asked despite Romano's struggling and cursing while Belgium and Netherlands watched from around meter away, rather entertained.

"Ve~~ Japan~ we were worried about you when you were suddenly gone! Did anything interesting happen?" Italy and Germany caught up with Japan, who's looking way to happy to be considered normal.

"Oh, it's nothing. I apologize for leaving without notice." Japan snapped out of it and bowed.

"So we can cut the cake now da?" Russia asked, Belarus on his left, Ukraine on his right and the Baltic following behind him, creating quite a scene.

"I'll get the cake aru! It's in the kitchen right?" China volunteered enthusiastically as Canada nodded. "Hong Kong and Taiwan, come along to help." He called as he ran to the kitchen.

America watched as more countries joined them in the living room, diverting the general attention away from England and him. He couldn't believe it. It was like a dream, except that it's a lot more perfect than a dream. That aside, he could feel England trying to part their hands again, and held on tighter.

"De- You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?" England's eye twitched, "Let go already, I don't want to attract unwanted attention right after we've barely managed to survive one."

"Eh~ but I am fine with it." America beamed, "I want all of them to know that I've got you now."

"And I'll never let go of you again."

Shit, if this continues, England might just die of a heart attack.

"Don't flatter yourself, since when did I ever admit that I got caught by you-"

"England, the rose plant is my national flower too. Like you, I know what it means. Just wait for my bunch of nine hundred and ninety-nine red roses on your birthday next year." He smirked at England's flabbergasted look, he was like some 5 year old whose secret candy stash just got found out by an adult. Simply amusing.

"Bloody idiot, to think you knew it all these time..." England felt like a fool now, damn you America. Just damn you.

"It's fair, you made me run around the town for 2 whole hours, trying to look for you today." He grinned and without getting consent from England, pulled him along to join the crowd and the cake that China, Hong Kong and Taiwan helped bringing up.

"Come on, I still have one more thing to do before this day's over" He added.

* * *

><p>"I know you've heard this for at least a few hundred times already, but I'm going to say it again anyway. Happy birthday, brother." Canada congratulated as the others followed. "Come on, say something to them." he motioned for America to step forward.<p>

"Thanks Mattie and everyone. I'm sure many of you are eager to eat this delicious Triple-Decker-extra-creamy-and-delicious-rainbow cake-"

"Will you fucking get on with it?" A certain voice rose from the crowd.

"What I want to say is," America pulled Canada to his side, "this party will still be another plan scribbled on a piece of scrap paper if it wasn't for my brother here. Let's give him a round of applause." America announced as the crowd clapped, agreeing with him.

"It's really nothing. That's the least I could do to make sure you enjoy your birthday. You're my brother after all." Canada smiled shyly, a little overwhelmed by the sudden attention.

"Well I'm your brother too, and I'm telling you that you are so sharing this birthday with me." America said as he present to Canada a wrapped box. "I'm sorry that I've forgotten about your birthday while I was busy getting you to prepare for mine and I know this isn't much. But I promise, that next year'll be-"

Before America could finish his touching sentence, Canada was already hugging him, beaming as he shed a few tears.

"Don't bother, I'm already more than delighted to know that you bothered to remember it." Canada cried happily.

"Really? Darn, I was planning to throw this surprise party for you next year too.."

"CUT. THE. FUCKING. CAKE! DAMMIT BEFORE I DECIDE TO SMASH-"

"Romano! Calm down!"

"Okay okay! Geez!" America picked the knife up and motioned for his brother to hold on to it as well. "It's late, but whatever. Happy belated birthday to the best brother in the world." He grinned and after exchanging a nod between them, created the first slice on the cream white cake lined with berried and chocolate chips.

"Let the party begin!" America announced with a heroic pose as the crowd cheered.

* * *

><p><em>I finally finished it! tears of joy/_

_Hohoho I totally love Romano in this fic. He's absolutely random, but he's always there to keep things moving~ __Oh err sorry for taking so long. You are actually looking at the second version. The first version started with how things were like from England's point of view, but that's taking forever. /nod nod_

_This story has officially ended and I hope you like the ending. Canada deserve some love too, and America's probably one brother that I'm dying to have. _

_Now for some random stuff:_

_-America and England both have rose for their national flower. I found this info on Google._

_-About the whole 'collect 30 roses' part, I was unsure of how many countries will actually be present, so I just randomly put 30, thinking of changing it later. But it somehow fitted perfectly._

_-Review if you went 'aww' at least once while reading this. The one with the most 'aww's gets a *cookie. _

_*We lied about the cookie, but we know you are kind enough to still review, right? :D_


	9. A selfish hero, pt 1

_hey guys~ I'm back! :D I'm done with the latest chapter of Pandorax resurface but it's still under Beta. Meanwhile, here's a oneshot~. Enjoy :D _

* * *

><p><strong>Part 1<strong>

"A-A... America!... Please marry me!" Italy suddenly announced, standing in front of England and America.

Both of them were stunned;eyes wide opened and jaws dropped. England didn't know what's gotten into Italy all of a sudden; the usual relaxed and carefree look on the guy was gone, replaced by a serious and almost desperate look. Something must be wrong, Italy won't joke about this. But he knew that he had to stop this; he dind't want to lose America.

"I object! I strongly object!" England blurted out without thinking, as it he was set on auto.

That got Italy and America to look at him, one surprised and one looking hopeless.

"I-I mean... It's not like i care or anything. But Italy, what about Germany? Don't you always love him-"

"I am doing this!" Italy interrupted England,trembling as tears started forming at the corners of his eyes. "I am doing this because i love him."

"Then there's no way i am allowing it!" England rebutted, but keeping his tone as kind as possible, Italy's broken. He didn't know why, but he's broken. "If you can't love him, if you are marrying him just to use him, I won't allow it."

So will He allow it if Italy loved America? Will he let go then...? What was he thinking? There's no way that's happening right? Italy will never love America like he did-... How did he love America? As a younger brother? As his child? As his friend? As his... Love?

"Ehhh, that's not fair England, how come you are choosing for me. The hero can make his own choices you know." America pouted, obviously not taking this seriously.

"Th-that's because i'm your guardian! I have the right to decide for you!" England stuttered.

"NO NO NO! AMERICA WILL MARRY ME..! HES THE HERO right.. he will SAVE GERMANY!" Italy started wailing as he shouted, falling to his knees. The sky turned dark grey, as if responding to his pleas.

"Germany? What happened to him? Italy, why don't you tell us? I'm sure there's other ways to help-"

"THERE'S NO OTHER WAY!" Italy was almost growling. "America, PLEASE MARRY ME.! PLEASE.! YOUR THE HERO RIGHT? PLEASE SAVE ME.."

"He can't just marry you like that! He can't and he won't!" England couldn't help but raise his voice.

"Ehhhhh. England, so you really love me?" America asked, lost and looking at England for answers. "I mean, you're going this far to stop this."

"-!" England's mind blinked out that that, his fist clenched so hard that it was turning white. Did he really love America? If he didn't, why did the thought of America leaving him hurt so much? Why was he trying so hard to stop the marriage?

"G-Germany... He... He w-will... Please... I want to save him... America, you have to help me..." Italy sobbed as droplets of tears fell to the ground, accompanied by the raindrops that fell from the gloomy sky. "I-I promise... I'll love America...So-So please..." Within minutes, the drizzles became a storm.

"What happened to Germany?" America asked, walking towards Italy and leaving England behind him. England lifted his hand to reach out for America, but he couldn't say anything, he couldn't do it. Italy's desperation. He knew how it felt.

He shouldn't be selfish. America was not his after all.

"..." England sighed. He had to do this. Just one person getting hurt was more than enough. He's hurt the last time America left him, this time won't make a difference.

"Italy... Keep your promise." England turned around and broke into a run after making sure that they heard him. He didn't know where he was going, but he knew that he had to get out of here.

"England!" America's voice sounded so far away. England quickened his pace.

Damn, it was hurting.

His heart felt like it was being stabbed and tears won't stop falling down.

He thought that after the first time, things will never be as bad. How naive.

Maybe the rain was meant for him after all.

Come to think of it, wasn't it raining on that day as well?

* * *

><p><strong>PART 2<strong>

"...I never thought that he could run that fast." America muttered as he watched England disappear into the rain.

Was he... Crying?

"Germany will.. He will... Please! I don't have much time! America, please marry me! I don't want Germany to die..." Italy was in a mess; he was soaked to the skin and was hugging his knees, his eyes were almost empty- no, they were filled with fear and desperation.

They were like England's eyes on that day, red and wet from the tears.

So what should he do now? Stay here and help Italy? Or find England? How was he going to help Italy anyway, he can't just marry him; they barely interact much except when they go around looking for the book of atmosphere.

Then what about England? How was finding him going to help in anyway? It's not like he was anyone special to England anyway. Maybe last time, but not now. Even if he did manage to find England, what was he going to do? But he was crying right? his voice sounded shaky.

America remembered about the question that he asked England; and was for a minute, hoping that it was true. What if, what if England did love him? What if England was crying and running away because he felt abandoned? Where would he be now? Was he safe?

"Italy," America called, immediately getting Italy to looking at him with begging eyes.

"I.." America took a deep breath, this was going to be hard, but he had to do it. "I am sorry, I can't marry you. There's someone else who needs me, more than you do."

"..." That was more than enough for the poor Italian as he felt the last bit of energy and hope leaving him. Now there's not way to help Germany, now he'll have to watch Germany disappear in front of him.

"No.. i'm sorry for being so selfish. Please go after England, I'll be alright... I guess." Italy looked up at America and forced a faint smile on his face.

"Thank you Italy dude, ur the best." America bent down to give hug.

"Oh, and it's alright to be selfish at times." he replied before running off in the rain, shouting for England.

"... What should i do now?" Italy asked himself and he stare up at the grey sky blindly. A drop of rain fell into his eye, the stinging felt so miserable compared to the pain in his heart.

***  
>England got tired of running and crying, like how he's gotten tired of being abandoned and left alone. Maybe to them he was just a tool, a disposable one.<p>

He laughed at that little joke of his. it was a pathetic self pitying laugh, but the only thing he could manage now. Either that, or crying his heart out, and he's ran out of tears.

he was hiding under some abandoned shelter that looked like it used to be a shop, leaning against the wall with his head buried in his knees. Now that people's through with it, they left it here to collect dust while they moved on to bigger shopping centers. How perfect, it was as if the shop and him were meant for each other; both abandoned and forgotten.

No, wait.

The shop was still of some use during rainy days like this, it was still a perfectly good shelter. But he? He was of no use at all. How pathetic.

"The hero can't save everyone." He muttered to himself as he thought of what Italy said. America was the hero, but he's one hero. There's so many victims out there, surely he can't help all of them. So be it. Let him be the victim that gets left behind to die. He'll get used to it after a few more times, after the blood's all gone too, just like the tears.

"At least someone else will be happy." England smiled as fresh tears ran down his cheeks, getting absorbed by the already wet uniform. Damn, it was so cold.

"England!"

That voice... America.

"England!"

How annoying, why was he still thinking of him? America's forgotten about him, stop dreaming and wake up England! He's gone!

"ENGLAND! WHERE IN THE WORLD ARE YOU!?"

England looked up almost immediately. That wasn't his imagination, that was America's voice, and it sounded so near, so full of concerns, so ... Worried.

Worried? That's new? Could it be true?

England reached out for a lone brick on the ground beside him and threw it out of the shop, creating quite a big smash.

There was a pause, silence besides the pouring rain.

England threw another brick out.

What followed was frantic footsteps, then a familiar figure approaching him. America.

"Bloody Idiot, Don't tell me you left Italy in the rain." England scoffed weakly, crying and running took up a lot of energy. "Go and be your hero, it's what you've always wanted." he looked away, fighting the urge to just give it all up and hug America. To just be selfish.

"You know Iggy, there many types of heroes. Superman who came from another planet, Spiderman who got bitten by a mutant spider, Batman who's super rich.. They are there to save anyone in need." America joined England and sat beside him, shoulder to shoulder. England felt really cold, America could feel him trembling.

"I get it, they are for everyone, to be shared. It would be selfish to want to have them to yourself. I am selfish, I know." England looked down at the wet dirty floor of the shop.

"-There's also the sort of hero who caters to one. Personal heroes." America continued. "Everyone has a personal hero. For kids it may be their parents, or idol, or friends. For citizens it may even be the police. For you..." America turned to hug England tightly. "For you, it's me."

"..." England was glad that America couldn't see his face at that moment, he must have looked ridiculous, smiling and crying at the same time. America felt so warm... So reassuring and safe. "Bloody git... it takes more than that to be my hero." he managed to be sarcastic anyway, can't help that, it was a part of him.

"For someone as troublesome as you, I expected nothing less." America laughed, still hugging England. He could feel that the trembling had stopped and couldn't help but smile.

"...Idiot." England muttered. "Wait, what about Italy?"

"Oh, don't worry. Some people have more than one heroes." America reassured, "Come on, let's get some hot coffee at my place and warm you up." he said as he stood up and pulled England up too.

"America,"

"Yeah?"

"... About your question earlier..." England fidgeted with his hands as he looked the other way. "... I.. I really love you." Crap his face felt hot.

"..." America stopped in his tracks and for a few seconds, just stare at England in disbelief.

"W-what? It's not like I want you to like me back and a-"

"England." America interrupted and got England to look back up at him. He took the chance and a step forward, quickly pressing his lips on England's.

"I really love you too." He smiled.

England swore he must be as red as an apple.

"Oh England,"

"W-what?"

"It's not wrong to be selfish at times. It's perfectly fine." America grinned, "To prove it to you, I am going to be selfish and hold on to you all day."

England laughed.

* * *

><em>Thar Be A Part 3! :D<br>Review if u wanna see it~~ It's about Italy :3 _


	10. ASH pt 2- One and the other

part 3:

"Oii, just how long are you going to stay here and cry in the rain? It's really pathetic you know that?" Romano grunted as he came out of his hiding and approached Italy. He had heard everything, and wasn't exactly pleased with it. First the stupid macho potato bastard, then the hamburger idiot, now this?

"..." Italy looked up at Romano, who was also standing in the ran, getting wet. In his hand held an opened umbrella, shielding Italy out of the rain.

"What? Spain insisted that I bring an umbrella out, and it would be a fucking nuisance if you get sick." Romano huffed.

"Fratello... Aren't I useless?" Italy asked in a barely audible volume.

"Hmm? is that a rhetorical question?" Romano raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you always useless? Not like you've ever cared anyway."

"I see..." Italy drooped his head and curled in a ball shape. "I really didn't mind. When I was alone, whenever I am in danger, I'll just surrender. But after meeting Germany, I didn't have to be scared anymore. He's always there to save me."

Italy looked up at Romano, his eyes full of a new batch of tears, "Now Germany needs my help, but there's nothing I could do at all. When I was young and Holy Roman Empire needed my help, I couldn't do anything about it too. He's gone! Ever since then I've never seen him again! It's all my fault! Because I am useless, because I am just a pasta loving boy, I can't doing anything when the people I care about needs help. I've lost Holy Roman Empire, and now I'm going to lose Germany too."

Italy covered his face with his hands as he wailed.

He didn't forget about him. Holy Roman Empire. He couldn't.

The first time he taught him to draw, the last time they said goodbye. Everything.

Becoming carefree to forget the pain, not being serious about anything so it won't hurt to lose something again, never really doing anything to get stronger, scared that he would remember anything about him.

After all, didn't Holy Roman Empire get lost in the path to get stronger?

Germany. Germany was the only one who made him care again. The only one who changed his way. The only one that made him want to be stronger, so he can be by Germany's side, to help him, to laugh with him.

Apparently, it was impossible.

"..." Romano knelt down beside Italy and pull him into a hug. Heck he hated hugs, he didn't know why it even existed. But he was never good at consoling people, and all he could remember was Spain hugging him whenever he fell, whenever he woke up crying from a nightmare, whenever he's hurt. It didn't do much. The pain from the wound and the fear from the dreams were still there, but it felt safe to be in his hug. It made him feel that he wasn't alone, that someone would be there for him.

That's exactly what his wimpy brother needed now.

The hug... Perhaps some dry clothes and a cup of hot drink would be good too.

"You won't lose him you bastard. I don't like him. But I don't like to see you cry either. It's fucking annoying." ... Yup, really really bad in consoling people. Romano sighed.

Italy was still crying, but it felt really really warm in Romano's hug. But for a moment he began to worry. He's already lost 1 person and leaving 1 to die. If he lose Romano too, what would he do? With that, he cried harder and hugged Romano back, as hard as he could. As if... As if... As if by doing this, Romano could never ever leave him.

Romano got a scare. Dammit, wasn't hugs supposed to make people feel better?! Why the shit is his brother crying even louder now?! Did he do it wrongly? Spain did have the ridiculous laugh.. Should he try it too?

"Oi-oii! Veliciano! I told you to stop crying! Gah- don't hug me so tightly!" Romano's finding it hard to breath.

"Promise me!"

"Har?!"

"Promise me that you'll never be in danger. Promise me that you will always be fine! Please fratello."

"What? of course I'll be fine! Dammit, are you trying to curse me?!" Romano knocked on Italy's head gently.

"Italy? Is that you?" A third voice, belonging to neither of the Italy brothers sounded, causing both of them to look up.

"Italy, here you are. Didn't I tell you to always bring an umbrella with you? Look at you, you are soaking wet!" A familiar figure approached them, the rain was clearing up.

"Ger... Germany..."

"Tch. it would have been better if you are actually dead, stupid macho potato." Romano glared at Germany.

"... I see." Germany avoided the glare and looked at Italy, he's been crying. Why? "Italy! Are you alright? Did anyone hurt you? Is it England again? Or is it France?"

Italy did not move, he was too stunned to react. Germany was safe. Germany's not going to die.

"It's freaking you! Now explain this shit about you dying." Romano growled.

"Hmm? What do you mean-"

Before Germany could finish his question, Italy had jumped at him and hugged him tightly.

"Germany! You are safe! Russia didn't kill you! This is great!" Italy exclaimed, crying again. Well, at least it was tears of joy this time.

"Huh? Why would he want to kill me? Ah- stop crying already, you are acting like a child." Germany sighed and patted Italy's back to calm him down.

"Why wouldn't he want to kill you." Romano rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"Ve... I couldn't find Germany at your house and Russia sent me a letter saying that he's got you locked up and I must marry America to save you..."

"So you did?" Germany asked, rather surprised as Italy nodded.

"Um. Germany's always protecting and saving me... So I thought I should do my part too..." Italy's voice got softer nearing the end of the sentence. The truth was, he couldn't do his part.

Germany sighed. Smiling slightly, he said in a what-should-I-do-with-you tone. "I don't need you to do anything. Just stay by my side and eat your pasta. That's good enough."

"Russia invited me to his house to show me his place and I stayed there for a week because his place was too big. That's all. he probably sent you the letter as a joke. I'll never understand come on, let's get you out of these wet clothes." Ruffling Italy's hair, Germany explained as Italy heaved a sigh of relief.

"Vee~ Germany, can I really just eat pasta and do nothing?" Italy asked, his expression returned to the usual carefree smile.

"Oh yes, that reminds me. That's ten laps for you tomorrow for staying in the rain when i told you not to do so." Germany said sternly.

"Te-ten laps?!" Italy's face turned pale, maybe tomorrow's a good day to get a fever.

"Forget about tomorrow, you are doing ten push ups right after you warm yourself up. Romano, are you coming to?" Germany asked, turning to face the one who's been quiet.

"Heck no. I have better things to do than to-"

"ROMAAAAAA~~~~" Crap, that bastard's here.

"Uwaa! Brother Spain! Ciao~!" Italy waved happily as he watch Spain charging at Romano.

"Hey Ita-chan, you are here too? Ah, that's not it. Romano! Where have you been? Boss was so worried when you were late! Why are you all wet? Didn't you bring an umbrella? Are you cold-"

"Dammit, shut up, I'm fucking fine!" Romano felt his left eye twitched, Spain's nagging skills seemed to have improved by leaps.

"Roma~ that's cold! Boss was just worried about you!"

"How old do you think I am? I can freaking take care of myself!"

"You managed to get wet despite having an umbrella." Germany stated.

"Shut up you damn macho potato!"

"-! Potato?"

"Fratello~! Be nice!"

"Fusosososo, if Roma says so, boss will treat Romano as a grown up from now on." Spain winked.

Romano felt like punching Spain so much now.

"Ah, Ita chan is wet too. Why don't we all go to my house and have something warm and nice?" Spain suggested with a welcoming smile.

"We can? Yaho! It's been so long since I've been to big brother Spain's house!" Italy exclaimed.

"That would be nice, well then. Let's get going." Germany nodded.

"Oii, how come no one asked for my opinions?!" Romano's left eye was just twitching nonstop now.

"Aww come on Romano~ the more the merrier. We can have churros, and pizza, and hot coco, and"

"Pasta!" Both Italys repiled.

"... I'll just stick with wurst."

"Fuck, if we are going to have that, someone's going to die." Romano threatened.

"Fratello! (Romano!) be nice!" Both Italy and Spain exclaimed.

* * *

><p>"..." A person appeared from behind a large oak tree after the gang's left, holding a cell phone in his hand. After dialing a string of numbers, he placed the phone to his ear and spoke in a calm yet powerful voice.<p>

"Germany may be a little too troublesome as a target, da. Let's start with Japan first, I'm sure China would love to be one with me if we can get Japan." He said as a gust of wind came by, causing his long scarf to sway in the wind.

"...Understood, big brother." From the other end, a cold and strong voice replied.

"Good~. Oh, after you are done, let's sit down as a family again and have dinner. I'll invite sister too." The man continued, sounding rather happy now.

"I'll definitely be there." The voice was determined.

"See you there then. Be careful, Japan's katana can be quite a handful."

"Brother!"

"Yes?"

"я тебя люблю. (I love you)"

"... я тебя люблю слишком (I love you too)" The man smiled and hung up. Looking up at the tree's branches, his smile widened.

"Sooner or later, everyone will be one with me, right?"


	11. Payphone

_Hold it! To achieve the best effect you should get while reading this, kindly go youtube and look for the piano version of 'Payphone' by Maroon 5. Seriously. Or you won't get your non-existent cookie. /nod nod_

* * *

><p>Resting his arms on the window pane and looking out, Arthur sighed again.<p>

It was snowing. He hated snow. Having lived in London for the whole of his life, he's had enough of rain and whatsoever. Now that his mood's probably worse than the weather outside, snow's the last thing he had ever hoped to see.

Really. Its as if the sky itself was mocking at him.

He sighed again before moving away from the opened window, too gloomy to even care about the chilly wind that was blowing into the room.

Let it freeze. Maybe his bad mood could get so cold that it would wither and die along with the whole bloody vacation. It was supposed to be all warm and cozy, filled with fun and laughter, not _this_.

Rubbing his slightly numb hands together in an attempt to keep them warm, he sat down on the bed and looked at his phone that was resting on the small bedside table. The phone stayed completely quiet and still since the moment he stormed into his room and slammed the door shut.

No calls.

No sms.

_Nothing._

Taking a few silent moments to just stare at the phone, Arthur sighed for the god know how many times and reached for the phone. It felt extremely cold in his hands. Maybe that's it. The device's short circuited from the cold. It happened last time when he visited Ivan. Maybe that idiot tried calling, but couldn't reach him. Maybe...

He pressed a random button on the phone, hoping that the phone wouldn't respond, hoping that his guess was right. The phone's black screen immediately lit up, displaying the home page.

No missed calls.

No unread sms.

_Nothing._

"...That bloody git." He muttered as he fell back on the soft yet cold bed, letting the cold touch numb his senses. "Why don't you just freeze in the snow and die?" So he won't have to get all gloomy and annoyed... And guilty. He closed his eyes and stayed motionless on the bed, trying to clear the clouds in his mind and actually think of something useful.

If only the stupid argument didn't happen.

* * *

><p>Alfred sat on the sofa in the hotel's reception hall, holding a cup of hot chocolate in his hands. He stared at the hot drink, watching motionlessly as the foams slowly disappeared.<p>

He was so stupid.

Why the heck did he have to start that argument? It's so pointless that he couldn't even remember what it was about if he try to. All he could remembered was that they started arguing in the car, harsh words were thrown at each other, hurtful comments were made, and resulted in this. However ridiculous the reason for the argument was, it had succeeded in ruining their holiday.

Great.

Now they were in a 5 star hotel with every possible luxury device, several pools and even a movie theater. Well, it looked like he wasn't going to be able to enjoy any of them. Not when the mood between him and Arthur was like this. It was even colder than the snow outside.

The phone felt so heavy in his jacket's pocket. He could easily bring it out and call him, sms him, anything to say that he was sorry. But... It wasn't all his fault. Arthur's being stubborn as always, and he knew it. If he were to call now, he would be admitting that it was all his fault. That wouldn't be fair at all!

...

Come to think of it, the quarrel had something to do with fairness...

"Excuse me sir, it's getting chilly, would you like to return to your room?" The doorman approached Alfred with a slight smile. "It wouldn't be nice if you catch a cold on your vacation, would it?"

Alfred looked up from his drink, a little surprised. "How did you know i was here for a vacation?" Sure it would suck if he were to catch a cold, but things were already pretty much not enjoyable.

"It's just a guess. After all, most guests who come here during winter were on vacation." The doorman smiled again. "Or if you are troubled, would you like to talk about it? I'm rather free at the moment." He looked up at the hall, getting Alfred to look too. It was almost completely empty.

"... Right. Umm..." Talk about it, sure, why not? Things can't get any worse. "Why don't you sit down first?" He beckoned for him to sit on the sofa opposite to his. The latter accepted the offer.

"So, how may I help?"

* * *

><p>Arthur's had enough of the room and decided to walk around in the hotel. According to the idiot, the place was supposed to be filled with entertainments and what not. Whatever, not like he was actually going to enjoy any of these. But looking at new things might get him a little busy to temporarily forget about the suffocating feelings.<p>

He had checked out several rooms, including the arcade, the reading room and even the theater. None of them looked in the least appealing to him. He sighed. The phone felt like a dead weight in his hand.

He had decided to go back when he chanced upon another room, labelled the 'troubled room'. That's... quite an interesting name for a room. Arthur stopped in front of the room's frosted glass door and weight the pros and cos in his mind.

Well, he _was_ super bored and troubled and this was a part of a world famous hotel. What could possibly hurt or go wrong with just a look?

He nodded to himself and pushed the door open with his empty hand, entering the room. The dark room immediately lit up upon his entrance, the soft white light filling the room. It was a rather empty room. All that really was there was a grand piano, dust free, well kept and gleaming under the light, and a piano bench that was long enough for two.

"So much for the name. No bloody way the piano can be troubled." Arthur joked to himself as he approached the piano, running his fingertips down the cover. It felt cold, but inviting.

Deciding that it wouldn't hurt, he sat down on the bench and lifted the piano up, revealing the pearl white and shining black keys. He pressed a random key and held it down, letting the sound fill the room. The sound was perfect, as expected from such a posh looking piano.

Arthur was quite the expert in piano, also in violin and guitar, but it's been forever since he had last played anything on a piano. To be honest, with his mood right now, he couldn't even force himself to play anything complicated or grand.

Maybe something that could tell his feelings...?

That was how it started.

One not by another, he started playing the melody of a song he heard Alfred humming to a few days before on his right hand. What was the name..? Something... Phone. Closing his eyes, he dragged the note one by one, making the song sound more moody than it should be.

He was almost done with the into when he heard a different set of notes being played on the same piano. Immediately opening his eyes, the first thing he saw was another hand playing on the left half of the piano, playing an accompaniment to his melody.

"Once again, your memory amaze me." Alfred smiled, his left hand still working on the keys.

"...You were humming it everyday. I didn't have the choice of not remembering it." Arthur replied sternly without looking at him, the notes becoming shorter in his hands as the melody slowly came back to life.

Alfred simply smiled and shook his head, adjusting his speed to fit Arthur's.

They played in silence after that, though perfect sync, as if the left and right hand belonged to the same person. As if the two lost halves had finally found each other.

There was another moment of silence after the song had ended. The two both had so much to say to each other, but just didn't know where to start. The awkward silence continued, until Alfred had finally had enough of it.

"It's called 'Payphone', the song we just played." Alfred explained, trying to strike a conversation.

"Hmm. Good to know." Arthur's answer was as cold as his tone, making Alfred sigh.

Okay, maybe this was going to be harder than he thought it would be.

"Do you know what the lyrics are?"

"Why would I bother to?"

"I'm at a payphone trying to call home. All of my change I spent on you. Where have the times gone. Baby it's all wrong, where are the plans we made for two?" Alfred had started singing the song, getting Arthur to look at him as he went on. It might just be a coincidence, but the lyrics were probably the best description for what was happening between them now.

"I know it's hard to remember. The people we used to be. It's even harder to picture, that you're not here next to me." He went on to holding Arthur's hand, who flinched a little, but didn't try to struggle free. Alfred felt himself smiling.

"I can go on. But all you need to know is, it's weird to not have you beside me. It's plain to just play the piano with one hand, and it's definitely not going to be fun to spend the vacation alone." He said, holding Arthur's hand up.

"So... I'm really sorry. It's all my fault, so please... Forgive me?" He asked, and brought Arthur's hand to his lips, giving it a slight kiss.

"...Stupid... What took you so long?!" By this time, Arthur was already close to crying. He was so worried, so scared that this would go on. So afraid of being alone. "You're right, this is all your fault!" he cried, a few tears fell from his eyes, onto the leather bench. The second reason why he didn't feel like playing anything complicated, was that it needed two hands. More than enough for him to feel even more alone.

"Yes, yes. I'm apologizing, aren't I?" Alfred smiled helplessly and pulled Arthur into a gentle embrace, patting his back in a comforting manner. "You should really stop crying, having me by your side means no crying, ever."

"S-shut up, bloody git... A-and don't think that just a sorry will be enough!" Arthur burrowed his face in Alfred's chest, hiding his flushed cheeks. Alfred felt so warm.

"I know." Alfred lifted Arthur's chin up slightly, so they were face to face. "I've got the whole vacation to make it up to you." he gently kissed the last drops of tears away.

"Starting with this."

* * *

><p><em>I'm done! YAY! Inspiration from a piano tutorial on Payphone by Maroon 5, you can find that on youtube. I was like, shocked from how complicated playing the song would be, and had this thought that it would be easier if I can just do the right hand parts and grab a friend to do the left hand part. <em>

_So... yeah... Guess I got a little carried away. hahaha... /awkward laugh_

_Anyway I hope that you've enjoyed it and now we know why it's called the 'troubled room'. Go in troubled, come out happy and loved~. _

_Review = motivation and inspiration. _

_On a completely random note... I got scolded by my mum for writing this at 1 am OTL_


	12. Love You Enough For A Love Note

_To my America role player.  
>Happy birthday dear. <em>

* * *

><p>England sat in front of his work desk, a pen tightly gripped in his hand and a A4 sized notebook rested on the table top, opened and perfectly blank. His eyebrows were furrowed together as he ransacked his brain, desperate to actually think of something to fill the blank page staring at him.<p>

Now normally, writing would be a pleasurable and much appreciated task to him; be it novels, short stories, letters or even reports. The usual process was something like this: he would make himself a nice cup of tea, get himself comfortable in his chair, and pick his favorite pen up. That's it. Everything just wrote itself. There were no rooms for hesitation, and the end product would always be something that he's proud to call his own.

But this time, nothing's going right.

His tea was too hot, the seat no long felt as comfortable and his favorite pen just had to be missing today. His mind wouldn't work no matter what he did and after 1 whole hour, not a word was produced.

For the tenth time that day, England sighed and wondered about why he had to go through this pointless and unnecessary but painful process.

An unbearable process of writing a love note.

Oh for the love of everything good, why did he even bother to care? It's not like that idiot meant that much to him or anything. But that git looked so envious when he say Spain giving Romano the bloody love note that even a bind person could guess that he wanted one as well.

So... Just one note won't hurt... much.

Wait a minute, that's not right! Why should he suffer just so that idiot with hamburgers for a brain would be happy? The world's unfair and it's impossible for everyone to get equal treatments, share every single thing. So if he didn't get a love note, he should just suck it up and bloody live with it.

England himself was sure that he had never received such notes, and he didn't mind! ... Okay fine so he sulked a little when he saw the little public display of affection between two tomato loving idiots, but that's it! He didn't make use of his facial expression and say "Aww, dude! That's sweet! I hope I get one" out loud in front of almost everyone.

...Speaking of which, that frog did offer to write that idiot one, but got directly rejected in less than a second.

England tossed the pen onto the notebook and leaned back on his chair, stretching a little. "Maybe he'll reject mine as well..." He muttered to himself as he stared blankly at the creamy white ceiling. After all, he probably wasn't someone important in his heart... Didn't he always criticize his cooking, his sense of fashion, everything?!

_But he's definitely important in my heart._

That wild but honest to the core thought shocked even England himself. What in the world was he thinking?! He only wrote it because that person looked so pathetic without one, who cares if he accept it or not? ... It would be good if he could willingly accept it with a smile thou-

England quickly shook his head, getting the weird thoughts out of his mind. It doesn't bloody matter! All he had to do is just come up with a bloody love note and chuck it in that person's face. That's it! Shouldn't be that hard.

H-he's just doing it because... Erm... Well... Because he's a gentleman! That's right! A true British gentleman will never chance upon a depressed soul and leave him alone. Even if that soul was America.

"Fine, let's try this again." Sitting up straight, England was determined as he grabbed his pen, landing the tip on the first blue line printed on page. "A love note... A poem should work fine." He decided as a little grin appeared on his face.

If it's poems, then it's a piece of cake.

Within seconds, a poem was completed.

Content with his efficiency (ignoring that One hour he wasted earlier), England gently put his pen down and read his poem once, admiring his work. It's an old and overused form of short poems, but it's possibly the only one easy enough for America to understand without having to approach the poet himself.

It would be so bloody awkward to explain the poem to him...

Then he realized something bad: he was not supposed to show that he love/like/fancy America in any way. He's certain that he definitely would not want to admit it to him. In fact, it was already hard enough to persuade himself to admit it. He's probably loved America since forever.

_Forever's such a long time._

The young child who loved to snuggle up to him while sleeping, the cheerful preteen who's always there to cheer him up with his bright and warm smile, the teen who had finally decided to stand up on his own... The him now; grown, dependable, still a little childish, strong._ Independent. _

Whichever stage of America it was, England's deeply in love with him.

That adorable child.

The sweet and understanding younger brother.

The foe he could never bring himself to hurt.

The ally who's bickering with him and watching his back at the same time.

That one person who he could never ever let go of.

"Some things really never change huh?" He found himself smiling for no reason, a foolish smile. Then again, quietly loving a person for so long _was_ a foolish act.

"... Maybe I'll try something that'll suit him more." He finally decided to go back to the task, reminiscing about the past and all should be done when he's free. "How about..."

Pickup lines.

Yes, he went for pickup lines.

The first few went like this: "_Even if the world ends tomorrow, I'll still date you today." _

and

"_If I were a stop light, I'd turn red every time you passed by, just so I could stare at you a bit longer."  
><em>

then

_"Most people like to watch the Olympics, because they only happen once every 4 years, but I'd rather talk to you cause the chance of meeting someone so special only happens once in a lifetime."_

finally:

_"I was looking up at the stars yesterday and matched each one with a reason why I love you. I ran out of stars."_

After having his eyes twitch each time he saw the cheesy lines, he cancelled out all of them and went on to wrecking his brain for any idea that's not fully idiotic, unlike the ones he had came up with so far.

"Why the bloody hell did I ever bother?!" he growled in annoyance, but the pen in his hand never stopped writing...

* * *

><p>"England, dude, are you alright in there?" America asked as he gently knocked on the closed oak door.<p>

He reached England's house at five that day, inviting himself in and thinking of having dinner with him. Tony was away visiting his parents, and just the thought of cooking his own dinner was tiring enough. So he decided to drop by.

...Yeah he could order fast food or pizza... But he swore, England's probably put some weird things in his cooking. No matter how horrible tasting it was, America always managed to finish it (while criticizing it) and would somewhat want more. It's... Just a habit he guess. He's been eating that guy's food since forever.

_Forever's such a long time._

He found England's locked up in his study and America decided to leave him alone. Trust him, it's not fun to interrupt a Brit when he's working on something. Just don't.

So he switched to watching TV and raiding England's fridge for dinner, spending the day stress-less and quite inefficiently.

But England remained in his room even when the grandfather's clock chimed for twelve times and the sky outside was pitch black. That somehow got America worried. England always had a fixed schedule and was always having his meals on a fixed time, but he just missed dinner _and_ supper.

Gosh this was crazy.

"England..?" Getting no replies, he knocked again, a little harder this time.

All that replied was silence.

"..." Crap this was sort of bad, what if something happened to England in there? He can't just stand here, what if it's something urgent or life threatening?!

America was still wondering if he should just break the door down when he remembered the miracle key in his pocket. It was something Romano gave him, sort of a token of appreciation for helping him with... Something.

Well he pretty much came up with the name for the key himself, since the original name Romano told him was so long that just trying to remember it was a pain. According to Romano, it was a prototype of the real deal that his mafia group was working on. Basically, it's a key that was supposed to be able to open all doors.

...America was still wondering if such item was legal.

But since this was probably an emergency, America didn't have much choice. Praying that the key would work, he promptly inserted it into the key hole and turned.

The door opened with a clear click.

As expected from Romano... And his group of Mafia.

"England are you al-" he dashed into the room, but quickly covered his mouth when he realized what happened. England sat in front of his desk, his head rested on his arms on the desk, fast asleep.

On the desk was an opened notebook, scribbled with lines of words.

"Phew, I almost thought you were being murdered." Having just watched Sherlock for a consecutive 6 hours (it was the only thing on England's DVD rack that appalled to him ), America's brain wasn't able to switch back to real life yet.

Tip toeing towards England, he bent down to have a closer look at his face. England looked so peaceful and calm when he was asleep. ... He's too busy scowling and disapproving with him when he's awake. Figures.

"Rare for you to fall asleep while writing." He smiled and reached out to poke England's cheek playfully, the latter stirred a little, but was still sleeping.

That was still too close for comfort and America decided to leave England alone, looking up to check what he's written on the note book.

The first one was a poem:

"_Roses are red,_

_violets are blue._

_This poem's out of date,_

_but I'll always love you._"

That's... surprisingly cute and sweet for a grumpy and uptight Brit. America found himself wondering about the poem. It's a love poem wasn't it? Yup, it's definitely one. But who was England directing it at? ... Love that person forever. Whoever that person was, s/he's really lucky.

For the second time that day, America felt so damn jealous.

"What kind of gentleman are you? Always acting as if you know more than us..." He muttered as he gently ran his hand through England's head of soft and short hair. "You're the only one who couldn't see it yet..."

Still feeling depressed and unreasonably jealous, he decided to read on. What followed were some really cheesy pickup lines, once again making America suspect if England had actually wrote this. It's like.. Like...

It's like having him cough out a sestina.

On god the last time England tried teaching him to write a sestina, he almost pulled all his hair out. Who in the world can write a poem that had 39 lines in a super complicated and annoying pattern?!

Ahh... he really envy that lucky person right now... That person's so important that s/he's able to give England the determination to write pickup lines... He'd give anything to be that person...

"So... What's my position in your heart then?" Admitting defeat to that unknown person, America leaned against the table and sighed. A one sided love could only go this far. There's really nothing he could do to win England from that unknown person's hand, was there?

Just as his voice trailed off, England started stirring again, moving his arms a little and revealing a few more lines of words at the bottom of the page.

America hesitated, not sure if he want to read those. They'll just make him feel more miserable, remind him that his chances were limited. But... Even if... Even if those love were not meant for him... He would still want to see it for if he couldn't own the love, he could still admire it, right? with that, he took a deep breath, and read the last few lines:

_"The first mistake I've made was falling in love with a hamburger idiot._

_The second mistake I've made was not regretting my first."_

Okay maybe if he could ask Romano's Mafia to secretly kill that person, he could still stand a cha-

...

Wait.

Hamburger idiot?

...

Wasn't that what England always use to insult him?

...

So...

Everything he had read...

Was for him?

But why would someone like England bother to do something like th-

The love note.

That would make sense. England was trying to write a love note!

For him!

"..." Alfred felt himself smiling, a foolish smile. Then again, the very thought of England loving him too _was_ foolish.

How should he describe this feeling? It's as if he was suddenly full of hope, love and joy were just pouring out of him and there was this warm feeling inside of him. It's all felt so dreamy that he almost couldn't believe that it was real.

But it's real alright.

And he's so glad that it was.

Picking the pen beside the note book up, America thought for a few moments and wrote down a few lines of reply right beside the last two lines. He then leaned down and gently kissed England on the cheeks, feeling his own cheeks flush.

"Good night, the smartest idiot ever." He whispered beside England's ear before standing back straight and just before he left the room, took off his jacket and covered England with it. Switching off the lights, he took one last glance at the sleeping figure before gently shutting the door behind him.

"Now then. I should probably go home too." he mumbled to himself, still a little dazed. Thinking back about all the stuff he had read, America shook his head, grinning like an idiot. That guy's seriously too cute.

He couldn't wait to have England give him the love note in person. And possibly, read that little love note he wrote.

* * *

><p><em>"The first right decision I made was loving you.<em>

_The second right decision was always believing in my first._

_-the same hamburger idiot."_


	13. The last lesson part 1

_Hold it! To get the best effect, if you have a 4shared account, go to this link: **dc373 . 4shared img/ 1422243517/ a565c8af/ dlink_ 2Fdownload_2 FS5hDC8kY_3Ftsid_ 3D20120920-63704-4e4c5390 / preview .** _

_And if you don't... Use this one: **www . youtube watch?v=psPPKXa8GgQ**_

_remember guys, remove the spaces_

* * *

><p>It was about to rain again.<p>

America remembered how England dreaded rain; it's always raining back in his house after all. What a horrible day to start a war.

He was hiding on an old tree, secretly glad of the grey sky; his new uniform would stand out a little on a sunny day. He nestled in the branches of a tree with his knees to his branches grew in a bunch of twists and tangles that provided perfect coverage for him.

America couldn't quite decide if he love or hate this spot. In fact, he was not even sure if he should just cut the tree down or not. Yes it was the perfect hiding place when he want to be left alone to think or just wanted a moment of peace. But thinking back, coming here would normally mean that he was troubled. This time was not an exception, of course.

He sighed and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and after holding it in for a bit, exhaled it slowly. It was no use though, it still felt stuffy in him, like the still air before the rain.

"I hope England packed an umbrella." He muttered and put an arm across his eyes, blocking the light out. The tree was far from the town and people, so it was relatively quiet. But with the weather, even the usual bird chirping was gone, replaced by the suffocating silence. The silence before the storm.

America stayed motionless and hidden, counting his own heartbeat as he wondered how much longer he could stay here. Well, until he picked up a noise that got him on alert in less than a second.

Foot steps.

He quickly but quietly rolled over to lie on his tummy and peeking through the gaps between the branches, secretly scanning the place for the intruder. His vision landed on a black figure coming towards the tree. Squinting his eyes, he managed to make out some details of the intruder. And what a surprise it was.

* * *

><p>England scowled and glared up at the gray sky for the millionth time that day. This was one coincidence he could live without with. Seriously, it just rained yesterday! Since when did America's house become rainy as well?<p>

He still remembered that one of the reasons why he liked America and his house so much was that the sky's always so blue and sunny. Oh it fitted America's eyes and personality perfectly.

He was once told that a country's weather would in one way or another be reflected on the country's features. That's weird, what did his green eyes had anything to do with the foul weather that he had? Well he guessed Russia's personality did nicely represent the unpredictable weather in his house...

Whatever, he could care less about that now. In just a few more hours, something else worse than bad weather was going to happen, something involving the extremely stiff and uncomfortable new uniform he was wear.

England scowled again and quickened his pace, walking aimlessly in the outskirts of America's house and perhaps get some fresh air. The stress and tension in him were killing him.

It was then when he saw the tree; an oak tree to be exact. He couldn't quite decide if he should have any negative feelings towards the tree. But his legs have already started moving, bringing him to the tree.

For a moment or two, England just stared up at the tree from it's foot, dazed. He then placed a hand on the thick trunk, feeling the rough surface of its bark. "You've really grown a lot since the last time I saw you, haven't you?" he spoke, patting the trunk a few times.

England had decided that roaming around wasn't going to do anything good and settled down , under the tree. The uniform made sitting down a lot more difficult that it was supposed to be, but he had managed to get himself in a comfortable position, leaning against the trunk.

He closed his eyes and stayed motionless, enjoying the last bit of peace that probably won't return in quite a while. But a voice decided otherwise.

"England! It's been so long!" A little voice exclaimed, getting England to open his eyes immediately.

In front of him was a little fairy. She looked just like a miniature version of those delicate and cute little glass dolls, with the big eyes and cute hairstyle and all. Her translucent wings busily fluttered as she stayed at England's eye level, beaming with surprise and joy.

"I was starting to miss you!"

"Ah, it's nice to see you too." England smiled back, holding out his hand for the little fairy to rest on. "I'm sorry, things have been so out of hand lately that I could hardly come and visit America, not to mention saying hi to you..."

The fairy simply maintained her sweet smile as she shook her head. "There's no need to apologize, what counts is that you are here again. America miss you more than I did."

"...He missed me huh..." England couldn't help but laugh at the irony in this. The person who was supposed to be missing now, was now doing all it takes to get rid of him.

"Say England, what's with the new uniform?" The fairy asked, pointing at the bright red fabric. "You look better in your captain uniform or the casual wear."

"Hmm? Does this look bad on me?" England looked down at his own clothes; not sure why the fairy said that... So he looked the best in his pirate clothing after all.

"No, no~ anything looks good on you!" The fairy complimented, smiling brightly. "But..."

"Yes?" England brought his hand and the little fairy closer to him, anticipating an interesting answer.

* * *

><p>America almost fell out of the tree when he figured out that the figure was no other than England. Holy cheesecakes, what should he do? He can't let England find out that he's here. But- but- he can't just jump down from the tree! Why in the world was England here anyway? Of all the trees... He just have to choose this one?!<p>

Arrg. It was at times like this that made America wish that he was Canada. He could have just jumped down the tree and roll all the way back home, and no one would ever notice.

While America was still busy panicking and being indecisive about what to do, England had already stopped at the foot of the tree... Look up?!

W-wait! Why's he looking up at the tree like that? Was he being spotted? Oh shit, he should have just made a run for it after all. He's going to die out of awkwardness if England's going to decide to call him down for a little conversation before well... that takes place.

"You've really grown a lot since the last time I saw you, haven't you?"

Oh shi-!

England really did spot him! Dammit. What should he do- America suddenly(finally) notice that England's vision wasn't fixed on him, but on the tree itself. He was talking to the tree.

...

Talking to a tree...

America shook his head to get the weird and irrelevant thought out of his mind. Since England didn't notice, then he'll probably be fine if he were to stay still and quiet. On the other hand, he was interested to see why England was here.

He watched as England sat down, a little clumsily in the new uniform and rested there, eyes closed and motionless. Somehow... England looked so tired and worn out from here. America couldn't help, but felt a slight, just a slightly bit of pity for him.

He closed his eyes too, letting the silence do its work.

_This is probably the last time,_

he thought.

_that things can be this calm and quiet between us._

But his plan was interrupted when he heard a voice that belonged to none of them two; a voice similar to a little girl.

Immediately, he flung his eyes open and looked down, surprised to see... Something flying near England, talking to him. America rubbed his eyes, and looked down again, squinting. There was no mistaking it. That's a tiny girl with wings. That's... the so called fairy, wasn't it?

Throwing the huge realization aside, Alfred listened to the conversation between England and the fairy, lying on his back again. He... did miss England, each and every single day when England's gone. After this? Well, he's probably going to miss England even more.

_He'll definitely hate me so much after this that he'll never want to see me again. _

"No, no~ anything looks good on you!"

America smiled. Of course everything looked good on England; how could anything not?

"But..."

But? But what? The last time he checked, red suited England just fine. In fact, any color would look good on him.

"Yes?"

* * *

><p>"You look so sad in the new uniform" The fairy replied honestly.<p>

For a moment there, both England and America felt their heart skip a beat.

"... Have I ever told you how smart you are?" he thought he was doing quite a good job at hiding it.

The fairy didn't smile at the compliment and instead, placed both her hands on England's thumb. "Please tell me why you are sad. It's bad to bottle your emotions all up."

"Are you sure? I'm doing quite fine actually." He joked, and gently pat the fairy's head with one finger. She didn't reply and instead, looked straight at England, her eyes full of determination and seriousness.

"..." America had the feeling that he should do something, something that could help England. But as soon as he thought of helping, the fact that he was probably the one who made England sad stopped him cold. Hah, how pathetic. What can he do anyway?

"Fine, I'll tell you. Don't stare at me like that. It's not cute." England gave in without much of a fight as the little one on his palm did a little cheer.

"Why don't I tell you the reason why I'm wearing the uniform? How about what I'm here for this time?"

"As long as you are willing to talk, I'll always be more than willing to listen."

England sighed and took a deep breath.

"In just a few more hours. The war for America's freedom will begin. I'm... here to stop him."

"..." That's probably the wildest thing she had ever heard in her whole life. "B-But why?! America loves you!"

"Loved" he corrected, still smiling. "It's... Not as bad as it looks, I guess."

"Wha- You are going to be at war with him! You will be fighting the child that you've raised! You'll- you'll..." her agitation died bit by but as she continued, wings drooping as her voice softened. There's no way she could finish that sentence.

"I'll be fighting the person I love the most." Sensing it, he completed the sentence for her.

"Is that..." She looked at England, her eyes getting watery.

"Is that really alright?"

_Is that really alright?_

America wondered about it as well. He couldn't answer it though, for England or for himself. Maybe England would be fine with it. After all, he was at fault. To the world, he was declaring independence, proving himself worthy as an individual country. To his people, he was fighting for their rights, their freedom, for democracy. To himself, ...

Well, he was betraying England.

There's no chance of feeling anything else towards a betrayer but hate, right?

"No, of course not." England replied.

"Here, let me tell you another story." he sat up a little.

"But-"

"I grew up pretty much alone. The world was so big to me and everyone wanted to hurt me, everyone's an enemy. I learnt about hate." He continued anyway, getting the fairy to listen.

"I saw America for the first time. The world's so new to him. I wanted to protect him, I wanted him to grow up happy, and I did all that I could. I learnt about responsibility.

He was a great and lovely child, a little sun of my own. I enjoyed every bit of his company, every bit of memory I made with him. I learnt about love.

With my own eyes, I saw him grow up at a rapid speed; a little to fast if you ask me. But nonetheless he's a fine young man. Caring, smart, strong, perfect in every way. I would be overwhelmed with a sense of accomplishment whenever I talk about him to the others. I learnt about pride.

And now... he has his own set of thinking, he has started to feel for his own people. Grown and strong enough to stand independent, and to leave me. I guess... It's about time I learn something new."

_Hate_

America closed his eyes, silently muttering the word. This time, he'll be teaching England hate. What would he learn then? Regret? Grief? The choices were pretty much limited.

"...Hey, you're crying." England stated in a whisper, the littler fairy sobbing in his palm. Her tears dripped onto his thumb, creating a collection of tears. He lifted a finger and gently wiped the bits of tears off her face.

"E-England..." She grabbed hold of his finger and held it close to her, almost desperately trying to pass England some of her warmth. It felt so cold.

"England's c-crying too..." She sobbed as more tears fell off her face.

"... Am I?" He smiled again. It was a pathetic smile, a self-pitying one. And as he did, two drops of tears fell off the corners of his eyes, making two clear stains on the uniform, joining the many others that arrived earlier.

England's crying. He's crying because of him. But it's fair... Probably. Because he couldn't stop his tears either. When did he even start crying?

"Never mind about me. A pretty little fairy like you shouldn't cry." he consoled in a kind and gently voice, ignoring the tears that continued falling.

"I-I-I want England to be happy again. I want you to smile because you are happy, not because you are sad. B-but-" She could hear it. England's heart bleeding.

She wanted to hug England and tell him that things will be alright. She wanted to make England feel better. But she's too small to even carry a nut herself, and definitely too small to do anything.

"It's alright. You've done everything you can do." he said, as if he had read her mind. "Now if only I could do what I wish to do."

"What's that..?"

"Convince my king to just let America free."

For the second time that day, both the fairy and America couldn't believe their ears.

"But why?!"

_Why?! _

"Because..."


	14. The last lesson part 2

_For 4shared account holder:_

_dc372 . 4shared img/747572283/ebd97759/dlink_2Fdownload_2Fuoi6JM1D _3Ftsid_3D20120923-43709-782a9350/preview . mp3_

_And if you don't have it: watch?v=69Dix-v4h-I_

_Not sure if it actually helps~ but ah well~ I like listening to it._

* * *

><p><em>"...Hey, you're crying." England stated in a whisper, the littler fairy sobbing in his palm. Her tears dripped onto his thumb, creating a collection of tears. He lifted a finger and gently wiped the bits of tears off her face.<em>

_"E-England..." She grabbed hold of his finger and held it close to her, almost desperately trying to pass England some of her warmth. It felt so cold._

_"England's c-crying too..." She sobbed as more tears fell off her face._

_"... Am I?" He smiled again. It was a pathetic smile, a self-pitying one. And as he did, two drops of tears fell off the corners of his eyes, making two clear stains on the uniform, joining the many others that arrived earlier._

_England's crying. He's crying because of him. But it's fair... Probably. Because he couldn't stop his tears either. When did he even start crying?_

_"Never mind about me. A pretty little fairy like you shouldn't cry." he consoled in a kind and gentle voice, ignoring the tears that continued falling._

_"I-I-I want England to be happy again. I want you to smile because you are happy, not because you are sad. B-but-" She could hear it. England's heart bleeding._

_She wanted to hug England and tell him that things will be alright. She wanted to make England feel better. But she's too small to even carry a nut herself, and definitely too small to do anything._

_"It's alright. You've done everything you can do." he said, as if he had read her mind. "Now if only I could do what I wish to do."_

_"What's that..?"_

_"Convince my king to just let America free."_

_For the second time that day, both the fairy and America couldn't believe their ears._

_"But why?!"_

_Why?!_

_"Because..."_

England paused and looked up at the tree once again, "Because I can never imagine myself hurting someone that I can never bring myself to hate."

The little fairy couldn't help it, her tears started falling again. That's it, her small size would have to matter later. She fluttered her wings again, letting go of England's finger and flew to give England a hug on his left cheek.

It was probably the most insignificant hug ever.

But neither England nor the little fairy minded. He closed his eyes, a light smile stretched across his tear stained face. He lifted a hand close to his face, giving the fairy a platform to step on. "There, there. Stop crying. Or I'll have to blame myself for making such a cute and kind little fairy cry."

"E-Eng-England." She stuttered, sobbing between her words as her tears mixing with England's. "Y-You're such-such a-a"

"You're such an idiot."

Yet another voice appeared, one filled with guilt and pity.

The small fairy was the first to react, looking up at the figure who suddenly stood in front of them. She couldn't believe her eyes. "A-A-"

"It's so nice to see you again, America." England slowly opened his eyes; looking straight at America. The latter didn't make an effort to reply the greeting. Instead he went forward and hugged England from the right.

Then, right in front of the two slightly stunned figures, he burst into tears.

England of course, was stunned. He had been from the very moment he heard America's voice. But he simply sighed, shook his head slowly and slightly as he patted America's back with his free hand.

For the next few moments, the three of them stayed in that position. The little fairy hugging England from the right and America from the right. England sat between them, one hand supporting the fairy and the other hand gently patting America's back, calming him down. All three of them were crying.

Yet.

England was smiling.

* * *

><p>America woke up to a soft melody, still hugging England. Sleeping in such a position was definitely not recommended, and his back and neck were getting a little sore. But he stayed as still as he could, refusing to move a muscle. There was no need to move anyway. He enjoyed things now was it was. Even if this was a dream, he would still treasure each and every second of it.<p>

Instead, he focused on the melody that woke him; the same melody hummed by England to him since he was young. It was still so perfect and soothing, no matter how many times he had heard it. Though this time, the melody stopped right before the supposed ending.

"Hey, just how long are you going to pretend that you're asleep?" England demanded, ruffling America's hair.

...So he found out...

"I was thinking somewhere along the line of forever." Exposed, America paid a sheepish smile and slowly sat up, spotting the little fairy lying on England's left hand, fast asleep too.

"Seriously, What am I to do with the both of you?" England glanced at the fairy, then at America. "To think I even got called an idiot." He accused.

"Ah- yeah.. Well.. I-it's the truth!" America immediately replied, looking more sure that ever.

"Well then... Care to enlighten this 'idiot' here how you've come to that conclusion?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Y-you are smiling even though you are hurt. Fighting when you don't want to. Loving someone who's definitely not worth it. Being unable to hate someone who's betraying you... Isn't that enough evidence?" He looked away with guilt, his voice became softer as he spoke, almost winding up into a mutter nearing the end.

"...Is that it?"

"..."

"I have to admit that smiling while hurting at the same time does seem a little foolish..."

For some reason, America felt his heart sank. So England was feeling hurt after all. He wondered how painful it must have been, and it's all his fault. He's the bigger idiot here- no, he's probably the biggest idiot ever.

"However." England gently lifted America's face up so they were face to face again. "I am more than a hundred percent sure that the person I love is worth every last bit of it. Please help me make sure that the person knows it too. Tell him to never every doubt the fact that I'll always love him no matter what." He instructed, grinning a little.

"Next, that person never did betray me, and he never will."

"But I'm-"

"Finally. It's true that I don't want to fight. But I'm a country, and as a country, my decision is never everything. As a country, you can't be selfish. You listen to your people, feel for them and understand what they want. Sometimes, humans are foolish. They make ridiculous and selfish decisions, ones that you'll come to hate. But always love your people." he pointed to his own heart, then at America's.

"Because love, is a great lesson that can possibly correct all wrongs. Promise me, alright?"

America nodded with a serious expression. "But... England, that person is declaring war at you... How is that not betrayal?" He instinctively tried looking down, but England stopped it just in time.

"Why is that person declaring war then? Does he want to fight against me?"

America hesitated for a moment, and then shook his head, still trying to avoid eye contact. "My- His people wanted to be free, and he has to listen to them... And feel for them." As he spoke, a sense of realization started growing on his face.

"He's declaring war because as a country, he can't be selfish. He has to understand what his people want. And even though sometimes he may not agree with his people, he can never hate them."

"Because that's the lesson of love." Both of them spoke the last sentence in absolute sync , followed by the similar warm smile on their faces.

"Congrats America, you've completed the last lessons I have for you: the lesson of being a country, and the lesson of love." England patted America on the head lovingly, his heart filled with pride. America would make a fine country; he was so sure of it.

"Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. Thank you so much England." America hugged England again, who gladly hugged back. The both of them had started tearing again, but this time, the tears were sweet.

* * *

><p>"Umm..." The little fairy had finally woken up as she sat up. She rubbed her eyes a bit before looking at the two, her eyes still a little red and puffy from crying.<p>

"Ahhh!" She exclaimed, jumping up with joy. "England! England you are really smiling this time! America too!"

"And it's all thanks to you, my little fairy friend." He praised, getting the little fella to blush.

"I-it's nothing! All I did was cry a lot and this and that..." She pointed her fingers together, a little embarrassed. "Ah, America did a lot to help to!"

"Of course. He's my very own sun." England added, getting America to blush too.

Seriously, the two were so alike... England wondered if it has something to do with the fairy living in America's house. She was a little more hyper than the fairies at his house too...

"Does that mean that the two of you won't fight against each other?" She asked, curious and hopeful.

"Nope." America's answer felt a bucket of cold water to her.

"We're still fighting alright. In fact, we're going to put up a show so perfect that both our people will never forget. Right?" England grinned from ear to ear, confusing the poor fairy.

"You bet." America laughed and exchanged a high five with England. "And like, when we are done, let's come back here some time. We could have a picnic under this tree, just like how we always used to." he suggested and stood up, dusting his uniform a little before offering England his hand.

"Of course, this tree's my first present to you after all." England nodded in approval and grabbed America hand. The latter pulled him to his feet.

"Oh! Oh! Can I come too? Please? I'll bring a lot of berries and nuts and... and..." The little fairy listed, getting restless and filled with excitement.

"You are more than welcomed to." Both of them replied, still holding on to each other's hand.

"Hooray! You two are the best!" She exclaimed, overjoyed.

* * *

><p>"Ready?" England asked, looking at the blonde male beside him, feeling nervous.<p>

"Nope. But I don't think there's a choice here." America laughed a little helplessly before looking back at the front.

The two were standing just a few more meters away from the town, hidden by the trees and bushes. The war was about to start and they, as the main characters, have to be there.

"Better get moving then, won't want the rain to settle in too early." England frowned at the thought of battling in the rain.

"I don't know, don't you think that the rain will add on to the effects? We want the act to be convincing right?" America shrugged, grinning.

"Right, as if getting me to drop my gun and cry in front of you is not enough." England rolled his eyes as he remarked sarcastically. "Why did I ever agree to your plan?"

"Isn't the reason that you love me more than everything else enough?" He smiled cheekily.

"... Whatever. Let's part here. They're bound to sense something wrong if we walk into town together." England suggested, then looked down at their linked hands.

"Oh. Right." America quickly let go of England's hand, almost reluctant. " But... just one more thing before I let you go." America requested, "What's the last lesson that you've learnt? You know... The one that you were telling the fairy?"

If it wasn't hate, what could it be?

England simply smiled at that question. "That's for me to know and for you to find out. However. Let me just tell you that the lesson was not a pleasant one."

Leaving America speechless with that reply, he waved a little and turned to leave, walking swiftly and away from America.

"So don't make me regret learning it."

_-On 19 April 1775, the battle for independence had officially started. The 13 colonies of America have joined together in a fight for freedom. They were aided by France, Spain and the Dutch Republic (Now known as Netherlands) and led by George Washinton. __After almost 9 years of war, it finally ended in the year 1783. America won the battle and officially became the United States of America.-_

_Now that he's grown and strong enough to leave me. I'll be learning the last and possibly, the most painful lesson of all. The lesson itself was of course, always optional. But for his sake, I've decided to master it anyway. I learnt about letting go._

* * *

><p><em>AN: _

_Fuu~ I'm finally done! I've always wanted to write something about the war. You know, something possibly happy for a change... Well this isn't exactly very happy..._

_I was laughing when I wrote about how countries come to represent their weather in a way. Come on, England's foul weather was obviously reflected in his sour attitude towards everything. Oh yes, England, you look the best as a bloodthirsty and badass pirate._

Well, that's one more story down. I'll be writing one more soon I think...

_Reviews = motivation + inspiration. _


	15. Torn

_I am so sorry guys, but I am announcing this story complete. _

_I tried to finish part 2. But it's impossible. _

_So this story will be my first ever short drabble that is not all happy and fluff. ... Well I guess that's sort of an achievement /bricked._

* * *

><p>"America, marry me." Holding a piece of paper to America's face, England said in an almost demanding voice.<p>

The latter simply stared at the paper in front of him, holding a cup of double chocolate milkshake in his hand and the straw in his mouth. The next moment, he spit his drink out.

"Ahh! What the bloody hell are you doing?!" Acting fast, England quickly pulled the paper as far away from America as possible, shielding it from the flying droplets of milkshake.

"Dude! Don't steal my line! Who would ask that kind of question to someone who's in the middle of drinking something?!" America blamed as he wiped his mouth.

"Situations doesn't matter." The Brit scoffed and held the paper up to him again. "Fact is that you are marrying me."

"... England, that's the flyer for a cooking class." America replied skeptically.

"..." Turning the paper around, England gave himself a mental facepalm for taking the wrong paper out. he quickly stuffed it back into the file he was carrying and started looking for the right piece of paper.

"You know, it's pointless to go for any cooking class when you are just going to end up burning the kitchen along with whatever you are cooking." America joked as he watched the other look through his file, flustered.

"What exactly are you looking for anyway? You know I'll never marry you right?" The blond pointed out, more amused than actually surprised.

"What you think doesn't matter, I have this after all." England grinned in triumph as he pulled out the correct paper- a piece of slightly yellow paper with a few scribbles on it that read: I will marry England when I grow up. -America.

For a moment there, America was really stunned.

"Heh, at a loss of words, aren't we?" England grinned. "You willingly wrote this for me when you were young and insisted that I keep it, saying that I can claim it when i want to. You were really so much cuter then."

Again with the past and all... America felt the carefree smile on his face disappear. He really didn't think that England would be this desperate. The scribble was written with a green crayon in a really childish handwriting. But that didn't quite fool him, he knew what England was capable of when it comes to things like this. Nonetheless, that was definitely a fake.

"Well." He finally said, taking the paper away from England and with a slight smile, tore it into halves, "Since it's fake, we won't need that, will we?" quarters, eighths.

"It's not a really nice try, digging things up from the past." The smile turned cold on his face as he watch England's eyes widened as he let go of the 8 pieces of paper, free falling to the ground.

"Oh yeah, good luck with your cooking class. Please make edible scones this time." With that, the signature warm and friendly smile returned as he waved and walked away, leaving England there, standing stiff and unresponsive.

"..."

England watched as America walked out of sight and after a while, lifted his hand to cover half of his face, smiling the most pathetic and crushed smile possible. "Bloody hell."

"I knew I should have tried it on April Fools."


	16. Eating Your Love Up

_Oops i got carried away..._

_Anyway, here's a short, complete and sugary one._

_I'll complete the other one... Soon. _

* * *

><p>"England~~ your cooking still sucks no matter how many times you try." America stated as he poked at the burnt scone.<p>

"Wha- you used to like them as a kid!" England huffed, removing his apron at the same time.

"Dude, i'm like, totally no longer a kid." Leaning back on his chair, America sighed. He would actually prefer a proper un-burnt snack once in a while.

"No longer cute, I would say." The other scoffed as he sat down on the chair, facing America. "I really do prefer the younger and cuter you."

"Not that again. Man, you are starting to sound really old, reminiscing and going all nostalgic like that.

"Speak for yourself, git." England rolled his eyes. "You were so cute and innocent back then, going all "brother England! Brother England" and running to me with your arms open." he recalled with a warm and fluffy smile on his face, freaking America out.

"Ew. Omg. No dude. Just no." America lifted both his hands up, signalling for England to stop. "Let's not bring that up."

"You were just so adorable and you can't even lie properly." Ignoring America, he continued, the grin on his face getting even wider as he found himself entertained, seeing America's reactions.

"There was this one time when you wet your bed, and you were so sorry and scared that you-"

"DUDE! I DON'T HAVE TO KNOW THAT!" America shouted as he shot up from his seat, face red and embarrassed.

"Aww. Why not? Your childhood was probably the best stage of your life. You not being a bloody idiot for once." He grinned contently, finding the reaction he received priceless.

"Yeah, well if you ask me. It's probably the worst days of my life." America pouted as he sat back down. "Imagine having to eat your cooking. Every single day. For so long! If it wasn't for the fact that I'm a hero, I would have died of food poisoning!"

"Nonsense, you liked them."

"Did not."

"Did too."

"Did not."

"... Well then." England scoffed, slightly pissed. "If my cooking is horrible, then you must be the world's biggest idiot to eat it every time i cook them, and even ask for me to make them at times."

"No way, I'm eating it because if I don't, some guy with thick eyebrows will probably go hide under his blankets and cry again."

"I-I do not!" England felt his cheeks flush.

"I didn't say that it's you." America replied with a sly grin.

"Why you bloody little..." England smiled in a dangerous way as he raised his clenched fist.

"In fact, " America picked up another burnt and probably disfigured scone and popped it into his mouth, finishing it in one bite. " as long as you made it, I'll eat it."

"How many times must I tell you that it's the bloody oven that screwed up and not-.. .huh?" Caught by the unexpected reply, England simply stared at America with a blur look.

"Even though it is a little hard to swallow them most of the time, they're filled with your love." The blonde continued as he picked up the tray of burnt pastries and literally shoved them in his mouth.

England watched as the idiot in front of him almost painfully finishing his food, mixed feelings filled his heart and brain.

"And since your love belongs to me and me only. I'll eat all of it." having accomplished the impossible, America gave England his signature smile, who's slight flush became furious blushing.

"So, for that. Can I get my hug?" he asked with his arms opened, blushing a little himself.

God he had no idea how many times he practiced this with the guidance of Canada and France to finally get it right. Stupid brain and it's unawesome stuttering made it so hard.

"...iot."

"Huh?" Wait what did England say? Oh my god, he didn't do anything wrong right? He did exactly what the two mentors told him! In fact, he did even more than that!

... Okay maybe doing more than what he was told was a little too much.

"I said you're an idiot! One heck of a bloody idiot." England repeated with raised volume as he leaned forward to hug America, the latter more than elated to hug back.

"If being an idiot means that you're alright with me hogging all your love," America grinned cheekily and sneaked a peck on England's red cheeks, "then please let me be the world's only idiot."

"Oh I wouldn't worry about that. You already are." hiding his red hot face in America's shirt, England muttered with a smile.

"Say... If I become even more stupid, will your love for me increase?"

"Considering that my love for you has always been 100%, I doubt that you can get any more stupid."

"Oh I don't know~ there was this article that Japan showed me, saying that inedible food makes people more stupid." America joked.

"...A-About that..." England stuttered, getting America's attention. "If it's really bad... Don't eat it. I'll go attend cooking classes to try and improve my skills... So..."

"Dude, that's probably not a good idea. You'll probably just end up burning the whole kitchen down or poisoning the other students with your food."

"WHA-T-THAT'S-"

England looked up at America, pouting and ready to defend for himself. But America was one step ahead of him and pressing their lips together in a short and sweet kiss, got him speechless once again. England could literally feel his face burning as he quickly resume to burying his face in America's shirt.

"Besides, I already told you." America grinned in satisfaction and ruffled England's hair affectionately.

"As long as it's the food that you made, taste doesn't ever matter."

* * *

><p><em> Hope you've enjoyed it. <em>

_Reviews= encouragements to keep me writing._

_Free virtual scone for the sweetest review /shot _


	17. -previews-

**_-edited(20/10/2012): added another preview-_**

**_hi hi, i am here to cheat your feelings again :D /shot_**

**_Anyway... here's an rejected idea of mine that i found a while ago, and I want to hear what you guys think. if you like it, tell me. I might consider continuing it again._**

**_here's the background information:_**

_Human AU: Alfred and Arthur are a pair. But Alfred caught a disease and his health worsened by leaps. So he ended up leaving overseas for treating and unwillingly left Arthur back in London. from then on, Arthur had never heard of Alfred ever again. It's been 3 years and his friends were all telling him to give up on Alfred and move on. Arthur of course, refused to be convinced and one day. After so much waiting and quiet sobbing at night, he received a letter from Alfred. Here's what it said:_

* * *

><p>Dear Arthur:<p>

Hey dude, did you miss the hero yet?

I'm probably going to come back soon, so you better stop being lonely. I can almost imagine you crying in bed every night. Don't make me treat you like a little kid, kay? Life here's alright I guess. the nurse is pretty nice and the food here's definitely better than yours. it gets a little boring here though, the games are all outdated and i have to stay in bed most of the time. What I wouldn't give to have you by my side and chat with me.

Sorry for not writing for so long, and I really miss you. Take good care of yourself when I am not here. Don't get wasted too often, i won't be there to drag you home. Also, it's going to be winter soon, so you better wear something warmer... Since I won't be there to hug you and warm you up when you're cold. You're not allowed to snuggle with anyone else, got it! Or I won't eat my medicine!

Matthew told me that you've grown thinner. haven't you been eating? It's not good you know, if you grow thinner, I may accidentally break you when i hug you next time. So eat up! Mattie's gonna help me keep an eye on ya and if you dare grow thinner, I'm going to disobey the nurse and bake you a whole blue cake. Then i'm going to get Mattie to make sure that you eat the whole thing up!

If you are tired of cooking your own food, (your burnt food probably won't be good for your body anyway) there's always mac D*nalds! there's nothing hamburgers can't fix! Or you can go crash Mattie's house. His pancakes are not as good as hamburgers, but it will do. if you really want something else, I'll give you special permission to to find Kiku or Francis. But you're just there to eat, ok?

... You know, I finally realize how you feel, nagging at me all the time. its just that... I miss you so much. if eating your horrible scones forever can have me see and hear you again, i'd willingly do it. I guess I think about you so much that I started worrying about you every single minute. Maybe that's why I'm starting to sound like you.

...

Dude... I won't start growing gigantic eyebrows like you, right? That won't be cool! A her can't have thick eyebrows! Alright! to prevent that from happening, I'm going to stop nagging like you now! Hero, out!

From: Alfred F. Jones

PS: I love you"

* * *

><p><em><strong>Yeah... It's pretty short but this is just a draft. The genre will be Hurtcomfort and such so. please do tell me if you want to know what happens next.**_

_**My computer broke down so i have to share my parents' computer, which means I won't be able to write often. I will still work on completing the last previewed story. So please wait in patience~**_

_**Next, a preview of the new Cardverse fanfic that's coming soon :**_

* * *

><p>"Queen!" Alfred shouted as he dashed down the empty hallway, flustered. "Queen! Where in the world are you?" He called out again, opening a door to a random room, only to find it empty.<p>

Leaving the door opened, he continued the search for his queen. As the king of Spades, he had absolutely no idea why he had to run around in his own castle, finding his own queen... It doesn't even make sense! To think it's the third time in just a week...

Alfred mentally sighed for being such an unfortunate king as he opened another door around the corners, asking the same question. "Queen! Are you-"

A foot flew in his way, straight at his face. Before he could react, his face took a solid kick as he fall back on the ground. Covering his injured face with his hand, he wailed a little when he realized that his nose had started bleeding.

Why was it always the face?!

"How many bloody times must I kick you" An angry figure stood in front of him, with arms crossed in front of his chest and his left leg slightly lifting up... and landing right on Alfred's stomach. The poor victim yelped in pain. "before you learn to stop calling me that?!"

"But you are my quee-"

Another stomp, another cry.

"Well to hell with that! I'm a bloody man!" The said Queen of Spades, Arthur, huffed as he dug the heel of his left foot in Alfred's shirt, creasing and dirtying the finely pressed fabric. Oh boy, Alfred could already hear the Jack crying as he struggled with the clothes...

"In fact, I thought we already agreed that I'm not doing this." He finally lifted his foot away from Alfred, who was half dead and fully worn out. The latter struggled to push himself up to a sitting position, groaning in pain. Thank god he's considered fit.

...Actually... he ended up with the healer the first time this happened.

Alfred sighed, mentally preparing himself for what he was about to say next. "Dude... It's not a matter if wants or not. We can't just.. change the queen." Oh god he's going to have a knife thrown at him, he knew it.

"Har?!" Arthur threatened, getting Alfred to wince in fear.

Right, the jack made sure that the queen didn't have anything sharp on him. Alfred heaved a sign of relief. He's going to live another day without reporting to the healer. Oh the joy.

"B-but it's the rules-"

"I don't give a bloody damn about the rules. You and that Yao Wang should just bleeding move on, and find another queen who's preferably a real female." He snorted, marching off again.

"... But I think you look just fine in a dres-"

Yet another object flew at him; a vase. This time, it hit him right in the crotch, sending he yelping in pain as he rolled around on the ground a little.

"If you dare bring that up again." Arthur had turned around to stare at Alfred, a menacing smile on his face. "You better pray that the material of your pants can protect you from flying knives." He took off the small blue hat on his head and gave it a little wave, bowling a little.

"If that's all you need, have a nice day. Your highness." He put the hat back, smiled again, and walked away with royal elegance.

Alfred just... Couldn't believe his luck. Of all the possible choices... His queen just had to be an extremely violent guy with a foul mood almost all the time. Great. Just great.

"... I should really go see the healer later."

* * *

><p><em><strong>That... should be all for now X3 <strong>_

_**I hope you enjoyed ViolentQueen!Arthur XD **_


	18. Press play

England knew that something was fishy when he saw the email from America in his mailbox.

As far as he knew, America would never ever email him. That guy's way too impatient for a slow reply and always too eager to share his weird ideas with people. In fact, England had lost count of the number of times that idiot had woken him up with a call at one AM in the morning.

To make things more unbearable, the calls were usually about small and useless stuff like how he finally managed to beat the boss in a game. Seriously, he could also care less about how many burgers that guy ate for dinner.

Moving his cursor to the mail, England pondered over the possible outcomes of opening the mail. The mail had a file attached to it, which added to the hesitation. Knowing America, which England swore he did, that file can easily be a prank video or even a virus that's probably going to wipe out all the data in his computer.

Risky. Far too risky.

"… If it's something important, he'll probably call me." Muttering to himself after much thinking, he selected the mail and moved the cursor to the delete button.

Sure he was curious - it took every bit of self-control for him to leave the mail unopened -, but the thought of the file being a virus managed to stop him cold. He just couldn't imagine himself going through the trouble to recover the data lost. That would just be inflicting damage to his mental and physical health.

With that, he sighed and with a slightly heavy heart, pressed the button. The mail was immediately out of sight. There, let's see that git try messing with his data now.

England let out a sigh of relief and was about to open the mail from his boss when a chain of music was heard, shocking him a little. Scurrying up from his seat, he reached for the phone at the other end of the work desk, rolling his eyes when he saw that America was calling him.

"If you are calling to bother me, please save it for later." He started with a slightly irritated tone as he went back to sit in front of the computer. "I'm currently working on some paperwork -"

"Dude! When you get an email, you're supposed to open it _before_ you delete it!" America's loud voice blasted from the phone, almost bursting England's ears as he immediately pulled the phone as far from his ear as possible.

"Wha- I'll have you know that this is my mailbox and my computer, I can do what I want without your permission!" England shouted right back at him.

One day, he swore, one day he'll sew that guy's mouth up for good.

"Just recover the email and open it!" Ignoring the rant, America insisted.

"Why do I have to listen to you- how the bloody hell did you know what I was doing?!" Shooting up from his seat, England turned to glare at the only window in the room, only to find the usual scenery and no American.

"Nufufu, Of course I can! I'm the hero!"

England can imagine America grinning proudly on the other end of the line and felt his left eye twitch in annoyance.

"And, if you don't open the mail in 1 minute, I'll send that embarrassing photo of you being drunk to everyone!"

"Wha- why do you even have that?!" England interrogated.

"A hero has his sources." America laughed victoriously. "One minute starts now!"

"Tch- Fine! Have it your way! But if this erases my data, then consider yourself dead." He growled and ended the call, throwing the phone on the sofa behind him.

Sitting down again, he mumbled a couple of swearing as he recovered the mail from the trash bin and clicked on it. The mail opened up and showed only two words in bold and large font: "Press play"

Seeing that the mail itself had nothing else to offer, he moved on to the attached file. It was an audio clip that was 2 minutes long and looked pretty much safe for download. With yet another sigh, he admitted defeat and downloaded the clip obediently. Once the download was complete, he plugged the earphone in and following the mail's short instruction, pressed play.

"Hey England, dude! This is the awesome America speaking! Aren't you grateful that I sent you a recording of my awesome and influential voice? You can thank me by treating me to MacDonald next time! Since this is only for you, don't let anyone else hear it, or I'll send your drunk photos to France and Russia and China and Japan and Italy and… You got the idea!"

England stiffened to America's voice coming out from the earphone and quickly paused the clip. That bloody moron called him and blackmailed him… Just for him to listen to an audio of him talking?!

What in the world was this?!

"Deleting this is becoming very tempting." England felt the corner of his mouth start twitching as well. Why can't anyone else hear it anyway?! It's not like it's some inappropriate audio or anything.

…

Inappropriate audio…

England quickly shook his head to get that thought out of his head and pressed play again. If this really was something embarrassing or inappropriate, then, well. Two can play at the game of blackmailing.

"I know I should probably say this in front of you in person, but I'm probably going to mess up. You know, stutter and accidentally saying stupid stuff and all. That's gonna make me look like an idiot, and a hero can't lose his image like that."

Oh, right, so recording this down wouldn't make him look like an idiot. Right.

England grinned and leaned forward, resting both his arms on the desk. So it was something embarrassing. This should be entertaining.

"I actually thought of calling, but then I'll be interrupted by you and your caterpillar brows. We'll probably end up talking about your horrible cooking again. Dude, just please be convinced that your scones are rock hard. You can kill a squirrel with that thing."

… Scratch that, he's deleting this.

"So here I am, recording what I want to tell you all these time. You better appreciate this, I took hours practicing it and even wrote a script!"

England's outstretched hand paused in the air as sounds of a piece of paper being unfolded was played. Bringing his hand back from the mouse and the delete button, he decided that since he's already tolerated thirty seconds of idiocy, he might as well finish the whole clip.

Besides, if this was really a waste of his time, he can always send everyone that photo of America when he was young, sitting in the bathtub full of bubbles.

"Okay, before I start, you have to promise that you'll listen to it till the end. Also, everything I'm going to say are true, whether you believe it or not. Alright? Here we go."

By this time, England had turned to multitasking and checking the email from his boss. As the clip continued, he started tying the reply to his boss, fingers gracefully dancing on the keyboard as he listened to the sound of a deep breath being taken.

"Go on a date with me."

The simple sentence struck England hard and unprepared. As the Brit stopped his typing, he moused over to the clip and rewound it back by a little, hearing the deep breath all over again. He stopped whatever he was doing and stared at the clip, all tensed up and waiting.

"Go on a date with me."

There it was again! England's eyes widened in disbelief and replayed the few seconds again, as if the content would change after a few more replays. Of course, it remained the same. The same short sentence with the same impact on him every time.

England leaned away from the desk, shaking his head. That can't be it. That's got to be a joke. Why would America want to go on a date with him?

"You are probably staring at the screen like a goldfish now and convincing yourself that it's probably a prank. So I'm going to say it again. England, I want you to go on a date with me."

Fine, so he didn't have to replay that.

Fine, so he heard it correctly.

Fine, so he meant it.

But why...?

"Dude, stop torturing your poor brain trying to think of why I said that. Let the awesome hero here save the day and explain it to you. It's going to sound super cheeky because Mattie insisted on making some changes. So don't laugh and just focus on my awesome voice."

Mattie? What happened to "no one else can hear it?" England couldn't help but sigh for this idiot's bluntness. But it was hard to extinguish that bit of hope and excitement in him that kept growing at a rapid speed. No matter how 'mushy' it

"You were my guardian, who took care of me and would do anything to keep me smiling.  
>You were my role model, a star that guided me along.<br>You were my enemy, the first person I hurt and feel guilty towards.  
>You still are my ally, we fight alongside each other, quarrelling and protecting each other at the same time.<p>

Together, we laughed, cried, shouted at each other, and ate your horrible cooking. But the point is, no matter your role is to me and no matter the situation, I'm always loving you. Every single second of it."

After that was a long stretch of silence. the clip had ended. Two minutes had past and in the very last few seconds, England experienced the worst flushed cheeks and accelerating heartbeats ever.

That was a confession right.

Right?

America just said that he love him, right?

Then... then...

What next?

England cupped his cheeks and gently patted them, trying to think clearly. He then opened the clip and examined it, confirming that he had come to the end of the video. But the ending was too sudden. It was definitely missing something.

Just as he was about to replay the video, the doorbell rang. A little annoyed by the interruption, he dragged himself to the door and unwillingly opened it. But the moment he saw the person outside the door, his complains were all gone. In fact, all his thoughts were gone. His brain was empty and his cheeks were hot. That's all he could actually sense now.

"And now, the love is finally strong enough to be spoken and heard. England, please take up one more role for me. Please be my love." Standing in front of England, a warm smile spread across America's slightly flushed face as he offered England the bouquet of roses in his hand.

"..." England was still too stunned by the sudden happening to say anything, but with his brain malfunctioning, the heart automatically took over. With a surprised smile, he gladly received the bouquet.

"So... Umm..." America stuttered as he scratched the back of his neck a little awkwardly. How should he continue from here?

"it's really obvious you know, that Mattie probably wrote the whole script for you." England looked down at the roses, hiding his red face among the sea of red.

"Was it that obvious...? But it wasn't easy ok, I had to bug him for a whole day for him to help me. In fact, I had so many NGs reading that thing that I almost thought I can't do it."

England laughed. "Oh really? Something a hero can't do?"

"No way! I did it didn't I?" America pouted.

"There's still a lot of space for improvements, but I'll let it pass for now."

"So, what's your answer then? To the date and all..." He asked, looking away at the ground as he fidgeted with his fingers.

England simply grinned and pointed to his right cheek.

"Press play."

* * *

><p><em>So err... For not completing "Torn", here's something else for you guys ^^<em>

_I hope ya like it, cos this is the most mushy fanfic I've ever written. _

_And Like, please ask if you have no idea what England mean by "press play" at the end of the story._

_I had a friend who didn't understand it ya see _

_Anyway, Reviews = motivation + inspiration _

_Love ya guys~_


	19. Let's play Slender

STOP!  
>Before you read this, you have to know what Slender is.<br>If you don't, please go and watch this video. Do be careful, it's a horror game :3

www . youtube watch?v=RIIYuZLIjWs

Alright? Cool? Enjoy~ :D

* * *

><p>Title: <strong>Why you should never play Slender on a 41 inch screen with the lights off<strong>

"What are we playing this time?" England asked, rather not amused as he watched America turn the computer on.

For some reason, it's became a habit of America's to just nab England after their meeting every Friday and drag him back to his house so they can play horror games together. England of course, found it as annoying as everything America's ever done after his independence, but he simply didn't have a choice.

For a guy who can freely spin a fully grown bison around when he was still a kid, England figured America didn't even break a sweat dragging him to his house. After a month of being forcefully pushed down to a chair and watch the idiot scream at some lame games, England's actually getting used to it.

This time however, America seemed more excited than usual. In fact, he took a longer time setting things up, linked his computer up to the 41 inch TV, connected the computer to the stereo speakers and offed all the lights that England could hardly make out their surroundings.

England suddenly had the feeling that this game's not like the usual ones.

"It's a new game called 'Slender'. It's pretty trending and appearing all over youtube!" America explained as he joined England on the sofa facing the TV.

"Hmm? 'Slender'? That's a pretty ridiculous name for a horror game. Are you even sure it's horror?" With his hands folded in front of his chest, England crossed his legs and made himself comfortable on the sofa. This was probably going to be another crazy night.

"Dude, don't judge a game by its name. I heard this one is pretty scary." America pointed out as he opened the game application. The TV screen turned black in reaction.

"It's don't judge a book by its cover, you git. I can hardly call any of the four games we played last month scary-" England's complaints were disrupted by a suddenly audio coming out of the game.

America yelped in fright as England shot him a look.

"America, are you sure you want to play this game? It hasn't even started and you're already scared."

"I-I'm not scared! I was just surprised by the sudden sound!" America protested.

"Oh, right. So the sound of people climbing over fences can scare you. That's amusing. Remind me to climb over your fence at night as a vampire this Halloween." England mocked and leaning forward, turned the volume a little lower.

"Dude that's mean!"

"Right, like nabbing me here against my will is being nice. Get back to the game already." Rolling his eyes again, he pointed to the TV screen, which showed a forest half lighted by the torchlight.

"O-Of course I'll!" America stuttered as he grabbed the mouse in one hand and placed his other hand on the direction keys. "Find 8 pages?"

"Seems like we're stuck in a forest with a torch to find eight pages. You are right America, this is scary."

"See I told you it's- … Wait that's sarcasm wasn't it?" he looked at England, who returned him a look that confirmed the thought.

Knowing that England's probably not going to stop with the smart remarks even if he asked, America simply turned back to face the screen and started walking around aimlessly.

"You know, you're just banging into trees right now. "

"Dude it's not easy alright! I can't really concentrate on looking around and moving at the same time!" America complained and stuffed the wireless mouse to England. "Here, why don't you try looking around instead? Maybe you can find something else other than trees with your caterpillar eyebrows!"

"If I could, the thing I would like to locate first is your brain." Taking the mouse, England sat up straight and started looking as America moved about, immediately spotting something else among the woods.

"Alright, why don't we try that little cabin over there for a change?" he suggested as he pointed to the cabin on the screen.

As they got closer to the cabin, a truck also came into sight. After circling around both the objects, they finally found their first note stuck behind the truck.

"Help me… Huh." England read the note out, ignoring a certain America who's already trembling a little.

"Well, that's one page down." He smiled as he clicked on the page, collecting it.

What they did not expect, however, was the sudden thumping sound that added to the eerie background. Putting the stereo into picture, the sound sounded like it was coming from everywhere, and well. America freaked out.

"Eek what was that?!" He immediately sat up straight and looked around, only to find the darkness surrounding him. Damn. Why did he have to off the lovely lights?!

"It's called sound effect. Now hurry up and move; we are wasting time." England sighed as he watch America get back to his keys.

Tolerating the thumping sound and America's occasional whimpering, England finally found something else interesting: a silo.

"Dude that totally looks like a penis." America said as they went closer to investigate it, earning a glare from England.

"I'm not even going to ask how that looks like one. Just hurry up and find the bloody note already." He scoffed and looked around the silo as America circled around it. True enough, there was a note stuck on one side of the silo.

"Always watches. No eyes. Wait that doesn't make sense, how can you see anything without eyes?"

"Dude stop you're ruining the atmosphere. Can we just move on?" America rushed, looking away from the screen. Gosh the picture of a head with two crosses at the eye area on the paper was creeping him out.

Thankfully, no new sound appeared to scare the shit out of him this time. Great. So far so good.

The two finally found the large bathroom area, but America refused to go in, saying that they could always go in there last. England was about to object to it when they realized that their torchlight was getting dim.

"Crap now our batteries are running out?!" America complained.

"I'm not surprised; you spent half of the time running into trees. You know, this game would be really scary if you are scared of trees." England moved the mouse so that they were staring right into the bathrooms.

"Well? Let's go in while we still have some lights." He prompted.

"Y-you do it!" America insisted as he shoved the keyboard to England, who simply glared at him.

"Fine. Let's see how scary visiting the bathrooms can be." Admitting defeat, England continued the one-man game, entering the bathroom with the dim torchlight. At the same time, America's slowing inching closer to England.

"There's so many turns! Is this even a bathroom and not a maze?" The Brit scoffed as he turned around, annoyed. America on the other hand had both his hands covering his eyes, peeping at the screen through the gaps between his fingers.

Turning. He hated turning.

"Here we go, at last. A bloody page!" Grinning contently, England shone the torch on the piece of paper stuck to the wall.

"Don't look. Or it takes yo-"

"DUDE! Can you please! Stop reading!" America pleaded, obviously freaking out.

"… Alright. I'll just take it." England sighed and clicked on the paper.

What a mistake that was. Immediately, a terrifying organ sound started, joining the thumping sound and getting America to yelp again, covering his eyes tightly.

"… It's really not that scary you know." Smiling a little helplessly, England moved to get out of the bathrooms, clear of the fact that America was still inching towards him.

Knowing that it would probably take hours for him to talk America into taking the keys again, England went ahead and played the game alone, America sitting right next to him and leaning to hide behind his back with each turn.

When they got out of the place, however, something else happened.

"Hey… America. Is it normal for the screen to blur like that?" England asked as he pointed the bit of blurred corner on the screen, getting America to look up.

"Eh? That's weird. I don't think it's supposed to happen." Staring at the corner, America replied.

"It's growing you know, the blurred patch."

"Yeah…-"

Then.

Well.

They saw it.

While the two were still staring at the blurred patch intently, the so called Slender man jumped at them, giving them a scare that sent both of them screaming.

"AHHH OMG OMG OMG WE ARE DEAD!" America cried as he instinctively hugged England and covered his face in his arms, crying and screaming at the same time while the background continued to freak him out. "We're freaking dead! Omg!"

"GET A GRIP, DAMMIT, WE'RE NO DEAD!" England shouted to be heard as he pressed down on the shift key with all his might, running away from the thing. He was never this glad that he did an emergency swipe of the mouse before screaming with America.

"BLOODY HELL- WHAT IN THE WORLD WAS THAT?!" He swore as he let go of the shift key, hearing the player pant in the background. Damn this, the player really need to work on its stamina. Come on, what was that? 10 steps?!

"DUDE I TOLD YOU THIS WAS A BAD IDEA, WHY THE HELL ARE WE PLAYING SLENDER?!"

Jump scares. Gosh of all things. Why must it be jump scares?!

"YOU TOLD ME?! YOU WERE THE IDIOT WHO FORCED ME TO PLAY IT!"

"THEN! Then. Then, let's not play it anymore."

"Har? Is the hero giving up? We've got three pages you know, that's almost half of it. Are you sure you want to give up?" England asked, looking down at America who's still clinging on to him.

Honestly, even though that thing almost gave him a heart attack, his pride refused to let him lose to something that didn't even have a face.

"W-what? O-of course not! The hero never gives up! S-since you're so scared of the game, I'll just. S-stay here and accompany you…" America stuttered; a little too embarrassed to look up at England.

England sighed and shook his head, slightly smiling. Seriously, seeing America getting all scared and vulnerable because of a game really reminded him of when the guy was still a kid. Pretty cute if you were to ask him.

"Yes, yes. Thank you for staying here and 'protecting' me, hero." England smiled and ruffled America's hair. The latter stayed quiet.

Going back to the game, England found finding the remaining notes harder than he thought, and even though he risked going back near the bathrooms to look for a note in tankers, he found nothing. But walking upwards from there brought him to the tunnel, and America was literally begging for him not to go in there.

But of course, England went ahead anyway and safely pinned down the fourth note that said 'Can't run'.

"Oh yeah? I've thrashed a whole Spanish Amanda and lived through two world wars. Come at me." His pride getting the better of him, England challenged with a slightly menacing grin and grabbing the paper, dashed out of the tunnel.

America almost screamed when he heard the new sound that resembled a creepy and old air vent. In fact, he did. At the same time, buried his face in England's shirt while the Brit desperately to get America to move his arms, which were blocking almost half of the screen.

After the bit of untangling game between the two, England also managed to find the Cross wall. By this time, he had already spotted the so called Slender man behind him for plenty of times. Honestly speaking, he was kind of at his limit too.

The content of the page of course, didn't help. It was a sketch of Slender man, and written all around it, was the word "No". England could have sworn that he would scream if a new sound effect was activated. Thankfully, though, nothing new was heard.

"Alright, I guess that wasn't that bad. Five is a good number, that's more than half." He said as he backed away to move somewhere else. It was almost as if he was self-consoling.

"This game is ridiculous. Seriously. How can something without eyes-"

Turning around, England almost got a heart attack. The damn bloody thing was right behind, staring right at him. Before he knew it, the screen was completely blurred and the face of slender man was suddenly magnified in front of him.

England never knew that he could scream for so long.

America, unfortunately, mastered the courage to finally look up at the screen the exact moment Slender man got him, and once again, went into a chain of screaming.

The game ended and the Screen blacked out once again, leaving the two in the dark, hugging each other and too scared to even move.

No, really. Why the hell did they off the damn lights.

Just.

Why?!

"E-England, w-what do you think of s-sleeping on the couch?" America asked, too afraid to even open his eyes.

"I-I g-guess once in a while I-is fine." Nodding, the two were about to move when a loud thud was heard in the kitchen, scaring the hell out of America as he instinctively tightened his hug and accidentally squeezing the lights out of England.

"England?" Noticing that the person he was hugging suddenly turned quiet, America called. "England? ENGLAND! DUDE! IT'S NOT FAIR! DON'T FALL ASLEEP BEFORE ME!" He wailed.

Crap, this was going to be a long night.

England woke up on the couch next morning; the ray of sunlight that landed on his face was half blinding him. Thinking back on what happened yesterday, he made a mental note to never let the idiot turn the lights off again.

He was about to sit up when he felt the dead weight on him. America had somehow managed to fall asleep in spite of the possible dreadful and horrible night, still tightly hugging him.

Sighing, England rested his head back down and put an arm across his eyes, blocking the lights out. He lifted his other hand and ruffled America's soft hair, gentle to not wake him.

It's Saturday anyway, no use waking up so early.

Thinking back, one of the reason why he continued to let America drag him to play horror games was probably that they get to somewhat sleep together like this, and have a whole Saturday all to themselves. The other reason…

Was probably the fact that he can finally have the courage to hug or be hugged by America during a game.

Love.

It really makes people do weird things.

* * *

><p><em>HAPPY HALLOWEEN~! <em>

_This is my treat for ya lovely readers~_

_Well this isn't very scary, but more to the fluff side. Something sweet for the festival, yeah? :D _

_Please return the treat if you think that I deserve some, and drop me some reviews ^^ _

_Love ya~_


	20. All The Time In The World

_This is a Devil AU, and I wrote it for this awesome Tumblr admin who ran an 'Ask Demon England' blog. It's his birthday today :3  
>Anyway, I thought i would share it here with you guys as well. If you know who the admin I am talking about is, go and wish him a happy birthday if you haven't yet.<em>

_I think i found my Tumblr crush X3 /blush blush (ok ignore this I am high)_

* * *

><p>Arthur sat in front of a table in the café, absentmindedly stirring his tea as he looked out of the building's glass door, observing the human world. It didn't change much after so long. Sure there were more buildings here and there and the traffic was a lot busier than he had remembered, but it's more or less the same to him.<p>

He remembered coming to this café when he was human too, the Earl grey here was just so much better than the ones in other cafes. The cake shop across the road was also a personal favourite of his. The shop owner was a very kind old lady who he enjoyed chatting with. The pastries sold there were all really tasty and affordable as well.

Of course, there were also things that Arthur could not remember.

Watching a little girl hopped out of the cake shop with her mum, happily looking at the box of cake she was carrying, Arthur sighed and looked down at his cup of tea. Ever since he became a demon, he could no longer remember his human birthday.

Not that it actually mattered, though.

There's no use in remembering a birthday that he never celebrated.

Arthur finished his tea in one gulp and placing the money beside the empty cup, strolled out of the café and into the rain. As he roamed the city that he once lived in under a black umbrella, he found himself subconsciously comparing hell with this world. Really, hell was so much more plain and boring.

"No wonder those devils like to come up here so much." Muttering to himself, he turned to walk down a deserted and quiet path that led to the park.

Arthur himself loved coming up here too. But his reason was slightly different from the others. Walking among humans in a place he was familiar with gave him the sense of belonging; something that he could never ever find in hell.

After all, he never did belong down there.

"Yes Arthur, become a demon. It would be great. You would be rid of all the pains!" Arthur muttered in a sarcastic tone as he rolled his eyes at his own naïve thoughts. "Rid of the pain my arse. What in the bloody hell was I thinking?"

Entering hell and becoming a part of the 'family' meant nothing but trouble. After all, he wasn't a devil, but a demon. And a demon with a human past wasn't exactly liked by the other 'family members'.

In fact, Arthur lost count of the number of times the others had tried in getting rid of him.

Well Arthur wasn't there to stir up trouble. So he did the measures and reframed from interacting with the others. Instead, he spent his time collecting human souls and coming up to the surface to reminisce about the past.

However, there's one particular devil that Arthur couldn't tolerate.

Alfred, the pure devil that stood at the very top of the social hierarchy in that 'family', was also their father's favourite. Arthur could easily see why. Alfred was a perfect devil, what with the sadistic personality and cunning mind. That guy's perfect no matter how you look at it.

Everyone else in the family paid him the respect that he deserved, and Arthur. Well. He would do the same, if only that git wasn't such an arsehole.

Arthur was convinced that Alfred was probably too free for his own good, because the moron's favourite past time was to annoy the hell out of him. To make things worse, he had absolutely no idea why Alfred was doing it. But he took it as just another way to mock him, something he could live without.

It's not like he hated Alfred though.

He may not be able to stand the guy, but he had to admit that he appreciated Alfred's presence. After all, with everyone else in the family giving him the glares, Alfred was the only one who bothered to talk to him and even smiled at him.

Now if only that git could learn to shut up.

"Found ya!"

As Arthur was still complaining about everything in his head, a voice caught him by surprise as a hand tapped on in the shoulder, causing him to jump a little.

Quickly turning around, he heaved a sigh of relief to find Alfred stand in front of him, smiling. But his relief was soon gone and replacing it was a scowl as he demanded for why Alfred was here.

"Looking for you of course. Come on, the candle's going to burn out of you don't hurry." Ignoring Arthur's objections, Alfred grabbed that latter's arm and dragged him to a pavilion in the park.

"Will you bleeding let go?! What's the big idea?" Arthur growled as he struggled to free his arm. But when he saw what else was in the pavilion, he seized the fighting and simply stood there, speechless.

"They don't have this in hell so I had to come up here and go through the troubles of finding it, so you better be grateful." Alfred grinned contently at Arthur's reaction and moved to stand beside the stone table in the middle of the pavilion.

On the table sat a simple round chocolate cake, protected from the rain by an invisible box; courtesy of the devil. The cake was decorated with patterned swirls of icing. A sparkling perfect strawberry sat on each swirl, sprinkled with chocolate chips. At the very center of the cake was a single candle of a weird color.

Emerald green.

"…What's this supposed to be?" Arthur asked, his mind was more than a little lost to process the situation properly.

"A cake of course. Haven't you eaten one before when you were human?" Alfred asked, gesturing for Arthur to come closer to the table.

"Of course I did. What I'm trying to ask is, why do you have a cake here?" he rolled his eyes again.

"Oh. About that." Alfred looked away, smiling. "I was just walking about when I saw a cake shop and remembered that today's officially one year after you joined us. Knowing that you're too pathetic to have friends to celebrate today with, I figured that I'll be nice and buy you a cake."

"That's the best lie you can come up with?" Arthur raised an eyebrow, failing to notice when his frown had turned into a slight smile. "Why do you even remember something like that in the first place?"

"Because it would take forever to find out when your human birthday is, so there, you'll just have to live with your demon birthday." Alfred replied with a big grin, as if the answer was obvious. "Speaking of which, when is it?"

"Honestly, I don't know either. But whatever, I'm no longer human." He smiled and blew the candle out.

"That's even better." Alfred nodded. "I won't be able to bother you forever if you're human."

"Don't you seriously have something else better to do?"

"Nope, not until a certain demon learns to smile from his heart all the time."

"Well then. Suit yourself. That certain demon won't give in so easily."

"No worries. I have all the time in the world." Alfred grinned.


	21. Fair trade Part 1

England was almost certain that he's going to drown in his work when he heard a tap on his window; a tap so hard that he swore he heard the glass crack. Looking up, he was not even the least bit surprised when he saw someone's face sticking to his window.

Sighing, he pushed his chair back and stood up to open the window. Judging from previous experiences, the owner of the idiotic face was very well capable of breaking his window if left unattended. Oh he knew that way too well.

"If you came here all the way on a bloody Sunday just to annoy me in any way, then please just do me the favor and kick yourself in the arse. After that, you're free to roll or bounce home, whichever more convenient." He greeted the blonde male with an emotionless face as he instructed in a deadpan voice.

After the painful hours of dealing with his paper work, he was not in the mood to handle anyone with a normal IQ, let along America.

"Is that seriously the way to greet an awesome hero who's finally going to bring some joy and colours in your dull life? England, I thought you were a gentleman." America rebutted with a playful pout.

"I thought normal people knock at doors instead of windows." The Brit rolled his eyes as a mocking grin spread across his face.

"Nufufu, didn't I tell you? A hero's too cool for doors!" America laughed as he pointed a finger up.

"Well my advice for the self-proclaimed hero is still the same, if you're here to waste my time, kindly turn around and be on your way. I've got other important things to do today. Go on, roll along." He gestured a shooing action while he made a mental note to move his study from the first to the second floor.

Let's see America knock on the window then.

"Just for the count, polishing your tea cup is not important. Come on, you're going to become a teacup too if you keep hanging out with them." He joked as he offered a hand.

…Was this idiot trying to get him to jump from the window?

"As a matter of fact, I find 'hanging out' with my tea set better than babysitting a certain moron standing outside my window." Giving America the skeptical look, England folded his arms and huffed. "On a more serious note, I'm currently in the middle of work, so if you'd excuse me, I'—"

"Man, you really can't teach an old dog a new trick." America interrupted.

"—Excuse me?" He's now turned to glaring at America as he raised an eyebrow, as if challenging him to say it again.

"The hero will never take no as an answer!" With a sly grin, the teen reached out and grabbed the unwilling Brit by the arm. Before the latter can react and probably throw something at him, America had already literally pulled England out of the room through the window.

As expected from the guy who managed to spin a bison around when he was still a kid.

"—Wha?! Couldn't we have used the door?!" Waving his free arm frantically to gain balance, England argued as he got forcefully dragged out. God if he fall he swear he's going to kill someone.

"Way too mainstream!" Came the world's most worrying answer.

…Great, someday he's going to jump down a plane without a parachute because using one would be too mainstream.

Brilliant.

Well at least England didn't have to worry about falling and instead, he worried about his heart. America had pulled him right out of the suffocating comforts of his room and conveniently into his arms. Within a second, England was already jumping away from him with a flushed face.

"Dude are you alright? Your face is all red." The latter didn't seem to notice anything wrong with what he did and instead, tilted his head to get a better view of England's face.

"Alright? Alright?! How can I be alright?! I just got hauled right out of my house against my will! And let's not forget the best part, through the window!" he bellowed, covering for the real reason why he was blushing.

"Oh it's fine, you're get used to it." America waved his hand dismissively.

"I will not! We're using the bloody door next time, and that's final!" He was just this close to stomping his foot.

"So you'd rather I sack-drag you out of the door?"

"…Can't we just walk ?" England could already feel the energy leaving his body. Why was it always so tiring talking to this guy?

"That's boring. " America pouted again, but soon changed it to a smile as he grabbed England's hands again. "Come on, the faster we get there, the longer we get to play."

"There? Where?" Knowing that he won't get anywhere struggling, England gave up and followed the overly enthusiastic blonde.

Instead of answering, America simply turned to give him a mysterious smile and started walking in a moderately quick pace. England frowned a little, kept in suspense. But instead of wasting his energy, he decided to keep quiet.

* * *

><p><p>

"…You're kidding me right?" Staring at the entrance of an amusement park in front of him, the first thought that came into England's mind was to give America a knuckle sandwich.

He jumped out of a window on a busy day just to follow some childish git to the amusement park. Was this some kind of practical joke?

"Nope. Come on, there's already so many people in there." Showing the person at the ticket counter something that seemed strangely like the VIP card to this place, America urged.

England could hear the excitement in America's voice and deep down, he was thinking of every possible way to escape. Nothing good can ever come from a day out with America on hyper mode in an amusement park. Nothing. At. All.

In the midst of mentally eliminating the escape route one by one, a hand came into England's vision. Looking up, he saw the person behind the ticket counter, now standing in front of him and offering him a card.

Blankly accepting it, he gave the card a more detailed look. It was a white card the size of normal credit cards. There's absolutely nothing written on both sides of the card, except for a pink heart printed on both sides.

"Please show our staff the card to gain entry to VIP routes. Have fun and enjoy your day sir." The person explained with a bright smile before returning back to the counter.

…What kind of VIP card would have such design?

England was about to voice his opinion when he felt a pull on his arm. America's obviously running out of patience waiting for him.

"Wait a minute, why the hell are we here in the first place?" he asked as he quickened his steps to walk beside America.

"To have fun of course! Dude, did you accidentally fry your brain while working or something?" America asked as he reached out to poke at England's head, the latter felt his eye twitch.

"I'll have you know that even if I did fry my brain, my IQ will still be far higher than yours." He scoffed and poked America back.

"Let's have a competition then!" America suddenly suggested with an excited grin as he pointed to something. "We'll use that!"

"…Har?" Something for an IQ competition in an amusement park…? England turned in the direction America was pointing and was immediately speechless when he saw the game booths.

They were going to have a test of IQ in an amusement park, at the game booth.

"I don't think that's going to do any good."

"You're just scared that you'll lose to me~ ha, to think you call yourself a gentleman." America mocked as he walked towards the booths. "Wait till I tell France that you're just a chicken." Turning around, he made a funny face at England.

"This has nothing to do with being a gentleman." The latter was now smiling maliciously, "But for what you've just said, I'll completely thrash you." Glaring right at America, England was probably pulling the scariest smile ever.

On the other hand, America started to regret what he had just said. If looks could kill, then he would have died a million times under England's current glare. Now that he thought of it… The last time he saw England smiling like this, it was when England's still sailing a ship, talking Pirate language, and kicking French and Spanish butts at sea.

He gulped. That was definitely not a good idea.

Behind England, two kids started crying, terrified by the murderous aura he was emitting.

~To be continued.


	22. Fair trade part 2

Over at the game booths corner, a crowd of spectators have gathered around a particular game booth. Most of them had an impressed look on their faces and some even had popcorn in their hands. At the very center of the attention were two people, battling it all out at the game booth.

Taking a careful aim, the shorter of the two focused on the tin cans stacked up on a small tall wooden table and threw a tennis ball at it. The ball hit the center of the stack and with a loud 'clang', knocked the stack over. Five out of six cans fell off the table, and the last one dangled at the edge before falling off.  
>The crowd gasped, amazed. That's the ninth stack cleared.<p>

"Just go ahead and admit that you're an idiot will you?" Clapping invisible dust off his hands, England grinned proudly.

"In your British dreams." Grinning back, America threw a ball at a new stack of cans while talking to England. The stack immediately fell back and all six of the cans fell off the table.

The crowd gasped again and started clapping for the two.

"Tch. Dumb luck." England scowled as America collected their prizes. He was about to go ahead and wait for America at the bench when America's voice sounded behind him.

"A little help will ya?"

Turning around, England almost got a fright when he saw the large teddy bear in front of him. D-did the bear just speak in America's voice?

"Don't just stand there!" America's head poked out from behind the toy and without giving England a chance to voice his opinion, dumped the teddy bear on him. "There's still another one you know."

"Another one?! All we did was knock some cans down!" Pushing the huge teddy bear aside, England exclaimed.

"Nufufu, that's the grand prize for clearing ten stacks in one in a role." America grinned. "Now aren't you glad that I'm such a good aimer?"

"…Don't tell me you pissed me off just so I'll clear the five stack-"

"Monsieur! You forgot the other item!" A few meters away, the prize booth manager called in a French accent.

"Got to go get the other one! No time to talk~!" Raising his voice, America immediately turned around and almost ran to collect the other prize, leaving a confused Brit behind.

England almost facepalmed when he saw the second item included in the grand prize. It was a bouquet of flowers. Not just any flowers, but heart-shaped roses. Why in the world would any booth keepers in their right mind give roses away as prizes?!

"Do I seriously have to carry this around with me?" he asked, turning to the American carrying the huge teddy bear. No matter how he looked at it, the grand prize looked like what a person would give his partner on a date.

Not like they were having one though.

"Do you want to carry the teddy bear instead?" Poking his head out, America asked.

England looked between the bouquet and the bear for a few moments and decided that the bouquet was probably a lot lighter than the bear. Fine. Be that way. It's just roses.

Looking down at the bouquet, he started to wonder about the number of roses there were. It was a pretty big bouquet, around the surface area of a regular pizza, so there's got to be quite a lot of roses in there. Fifty? Sixty? Nope, possibly way more than that.

"Let's go get a drink next." America suddenly suggested as he grabbed England's arm. Then, ignoring England's questions, dragged him to one of the cafes in the park. For some reason, England's got a bad feeling about this.

Once they entered the place, one of the waiters greeted them and led them to a free table. As he sat down on the weirdly heart shaped chair, England turned to look around the place. It was then when he noticed what was wrong. It's not just any café.

It's a couple café.

…

Turing to look at America, who was busy ordering food with his usual carefree smile, England pondered over what he should do next. It's true that the idiot's always doing things without knowing it, so maybe he didn't even notice that the restaurant was different. Sure he could ask America and then change to a … more comfortable restaurant, but that would definitely be awkward.

"Don't you want anything?" Looking up from the menu (also heart shaped. No surprise there), America asked with a questioning look.

For a moment there, England had the strangest idea that the American planned all of these.

"O-oh, I'll just have a cup of tea then." Scanning through the menu, England decided to play along and act ignorant; just a cup of tea won't hurt, right?

Well the tea didn't exactly hurt… But…

"I don't even want to know why they have a heart-shaped tea cup." Staring at the pink tea cup in his hand, England smiled at how ridiculous it looked. "How am I supposed to drink from this anyway?"

"That's the 99th one today." America suddenly said, causing the latter to look up at him.

"Huh?"

"The 99th heart."

"…Now that you mentioned it." The VIP card, the seats, the cups and plates… There's probably around a hundred hearts in the bouquet already.

"And here, is the 100th " He smiled and lifting England's hand, placed it on his chest.

"…" He knew exactly what was happening, and he's seen countless of different reactions to this in movies. But when it came to the real thing, England couldn't even manage to react. All he could do, was look at America, the latter smiling warmly.

He didn't even know that the blonde could smile like that.

"There, a hundred hearts including my own. Can I ask for my reward now?" America asked, his smile slowly turning cheeky.

"…Don't tell me you planned this-"

"It's a fair trade you know, seeing that I've given you all my hearts." He said and bringing England's hand to his face, planted a gentle kiss on it.

"So please, give me yours as well." he winked.


	23. All of my love -Xmas special-

_Merry Christmas, my dear readers.  
>I am so horribly sorry for the close-to-none updates. I suddenly found a part time job that lasted for a week and also started my ASK-THE-CARDVERSE blog. And, and, got dragged into the Jack Frost fandom. that aside, I still hope you guys won't forget about me and well. Enjoy the story!<em>

_Also, here's some BGM for this story: youtube /watch?v=0KPp5GUIIks  
>if you have no idea how that link works go youtube and search this song up: "When love ends for the first time music box" <em>

* * *

><p>"Are you sure you're not a little too excited?" England asked, furrowing his eyebrows as he followed America down the bustling streets.<p>

It was Christmas day and the weather bone chilling cold. But the same can't be said about the busy streets with rows of shops filled with happy faces and all sort of products. England would rather stay at home during such cold days, comfortable in his sofa near the fire place with a good book in his lap and hot drink in his hand.

Yet here he was, still feeling the winter chills under his thick coat while being pulled around by an America who's obviously too cheerful for his own good.

"A little too excited? Why would you say that?" America asked with an ignorant smile as he stopped in front of yet another gift shop, bending his back to pick a snow globe from the display table.

"I'm pretty sure anyone with eyes can see how excited you are." England rolled his eyes at the blonde American. "Aren't you a little too old to be this hyped about Christmas?"

America gently placed the snow globe back on the display table and moved on ahead of England, the latter followed behind unwillingly. "You're never too old for Christmas you know. Besides, if you keep acting like a grouchy old man, you might just start becoming one."

"It's still better than being a childish git whose can barely read the atmosphere-…" As he glanced at America, who had stopped to look at a family pass by, England couldn't help but notice that America looked as if he was somewhat jealous of the kid.

Turning to look at the family, he raised his eyebrow at how normal the family looked. Apart from the parents, there was a small boy around 5 years old. He was holding a box wrapped in gift paper and had the happiest expression on his face, his parents smiled back at him.

England had kind of expected for the family to be a little more… special for America to be jealous of the kid.

Looking back at America, he realized that the guy wasn't just staring at kid, but also at the present in his hand. And almost immediately, his thoughts fell into place.

"…Seeing that you're probably going to occupy the whole of my Christmas day, dragging me from a shop to another, I assume that you want a present this Christmas?" He asked as he leaned to his side to look at America, testing his theory.

"Huh?" Surprised by the question, America paused to think for a moment before finally answering it. "Nah, I've outgrown the gift receiving age." He shrugged, smiling a little helplessly.

"Huh…" England couldn't quite say that he was convinced by that answer; the world's most childish person admitting that he's too old for something, that's just rare. "Then what's the use of wasting your day window shopping? I thought you would rather spend your spare time rotting in front of the computer."

"It's called computer gaming, not rotting. Some of those games are really cool you know." America protested as the two started walking again. "I'm not here to window shop either, unlike someone who takes ages to decide on which tea set to buy."

"Well excuse me for refusing to live like you." England felt his eye twitch in annoyance. "Of course you won't know the importance of a good tea set. I've never seen drink anything else apart from coffee and soda-"

"Wouldn't it be great if we have families too?" America suddenly asked, cutting into England's sentence.

"Huh?" the ash blonde looked up at the pair of blue eyes, caught unprepared by the sudden question.

By that moment, they had already reached a café near the heart of the town. Due to the festive season, the café was pretty crowded. The two still managed to find an outdoor seat with less people surrounding them; most customers preferred the warm indoor seats.

"I think about this every year, especially during Christmas." America rested his arm on the table and supported his chin with his hand, looking at the families walking pass them. England turned to look at the families as well. They were mostly just parents bringing their children out on Christmas visits or shopping; a normal sight.

"I really like seeing happy families out and about, celebrating Christmas. But sometimes, I ended up thinking too much and start to envy the little kids. " He said, absentmindedly stirring his cup of coffee in the other hand.

"I know that a hero shouldn't be jealous of little kids, but when I think about the fact that they have a family, I just find it unfair. You know, loving mother and father who takes care of you and give you presents on Christmas? I want to know how that feels as well, but it's obviously impossible." He smiled bitterly and took a sip of coffee.

"You're really right about you thinking too much. Though it isn't a bad thing, take it as an improvement." England tapped his fingertips on the table's plastic surface. "I've never really thought of it before since there's so much other things to worry about, so just for this once, you're not going to get any advice from me."

"Thankfully." America added cheekily, getting a glare from England.

"I grew up alone ever since I was young. There was no one to tell me what to do, or be there for me when I needed help. So my best option was to experience everything on my own, and then learn from it. It was only after I was a lot older when I met others countries. They weren't exactly a friendly bunch."

America listened quietly to England's words as thoughts formed in his mind. England was already somewhat an adult when he first met him, so he had no idea how England's childhood was like. He had imagined several versions of England's childhood when he was young, but he never did think that his guardian grew up alone.

"I guess you can safely say that after all those years of depending only on myself, the words like 'family' and 'love' didn't mean a thing." England smiled, a little embarrassed. "In fact, since I never had any close company, I never knew what 'lonely' meant."

Now that America thought of it. He was so much luckier compared to England. He grew up in England's care. He was there to comfort him when he was hurt, turn all his frowns into smiles and laughter, cared for him when he was sick… England was there alongside him with every step taken.

That's... maybe, just maybe, how a family would be like.

"When I met you, I didn't want you to grow up like how I did. So when you called me your big brother, I knew I just had to protect and take care of you. From the way you've described what a family is like, I'm guessing that the feelings I had when I took care of you would be the closest I'll ever get to owning a family." He started to slowly sip on the tea, signaling the end of the conversation.

The two just sat there, drinking in silence as they each sorted their own thoughts out. Around them, people continued their conversation and activities, spending Christmas with their loved ones.

"Well then, ready to go?" Having finished his tea before America, England finally asked when America had emptied his cup. He stood up and dusted his coat, then offered his hand at America.

"Where to?" America asked, taking England's hand as he stood up.

"To buy you a present of course." The Brit smiled as he started walking, leading America along. "Just for today, I'll be your family again."

"Huh?"

"You probably don't need someone else to tell you what to do anymore, nor do you need any help with any step you take from now on. So all I can give you as your family now, are two things." Stopping to look at America, he pointed two fingers up.

"One, a Christmas present." He put one finger down.

"Two?"

Without saying a word, England simple leaned forward and kissed America on the cheek. He then nodded his head upwards, motioning for the flushed American to look up.

They were standing right under the mistletoe.

"All of my love."


	24. Grey

"So you're really keeping him?" Francis asked, leaning against the kitchen sink as he reached for his coffee mug.

"..." Arthur did not answer and instead, looked down at the child in his arms. Gently ruffling the boy's soft blonde hair, he fell into deep thoughts.

Francis sighed and taking a quick sip of coffee, placed the mug back on the sink. Arthur took more than 3 seconds to make a decision. The devil Arthur he knew would never be indecisive, especially when it came to important choices.

He shook his head disapprovingly and ran a hand through his hair, slightly frustrated and mostly stressed; keeping that boy wouldn't be easy. On the other hand, changing Arthur's mind would most probably be impossible. He sighed and landed his eyes on the boy, staring at the sleeping figure as he wondered about what Arthur saw in that boy.

All he could see from the boy was trouble.

"I can't leave him to them." Arthur finally looked up, a determined spark slowly growing in his eye. "They'll kill him." As he spoke, he gently bright the boy closer to him, obviously protective of the child.

"They'll kill us!" He leaned forward almost immediately, eyebrows knitted together. "Arthur, mon ami, listen. They won't kill him-"

"You saw what they did just now! If throwing a sleeping infant down from such great height isn't killing him, then what is?" Arthur growled back defensively.

Francis pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. He had to stay calm. Now was not the time to argue with him. He's never seen Arthur so protective of someone else, but he knew better than to challenge the devil in front of him.

"Fine, but that's not our business. If those angels wants to throw one of their own kind down the cliff, there's nothing we devils can or should do. We don't associate with them Arthur. It's the rules." he paused for a moment, giving the latter a second to catch up.

"The rules that you set."

"Rules are meant to be broken-"

"Do you even know what you are saying?" Francis interrupted in his rare annoyed tone. "You are not only challenging the ones above, but sticking your nose into the angels' business?"

"What? Do you want me to leave him out there and let them bloody kill him?!" Arthur shouted as he stood up from his chair, still carrying the child in his arms.

"Yes!" Francis shouted his reply, standing back straight.

It was silence after that as the two glared at each other. It was obvious that one had to back down sooner or later, and both of them jolly well knew what that person was. As expected, within seconds, Francis sighed and looked away, admitting defeat.

"Fine. Fine. Have it your way. But if you ever get in trouble, don't ever get me to help you."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Don't worry, I would never think of asking you for help; there's nothing you can offer anyway."

"Does he have a name?" Ignoring the sarcasm, Francis pointed to the child and asked. "You know, so I can properly record the cause of your death."

Arthur threw him a glare.

Though Francis was right. He had to know the boy's name. Arthur looked down at the boy again, searching through his memory in hope to find the child's name. Though, the troubling truth came that the boy never did tell him his name. Maybe he didn't even have a name to begin with...

"Alfred."

"Hn?'

"I'll call him Alfred." Arthur repeated again, determined as ever.

"You'll call him?" Francis raised an eyebrow, mentally telling himself that he'll never live a day more crazy than this one.

A devil adopting an angel. How about that.

"You have a better name?" Arthur challenged, narrowing his eyes.

"Non, non, Alfred's a great name." Francis felt a drop of sweat down his forehead.

"Good." Nodding, Arthur sat back down.

Francis heaved a sigh of relief and moved to sit on a chair. "Since you are planning to keep him despite the danger, I assume you have a plan?"

"..." Arthur looked away awkwardly.

Francis felt the tip of his mouth twitch.

"Does 'kill anyone who tries to harm him' count as a plan?" The other finally asked.

Francis slammed his head onto the dining table in front of them.

This was going to be a long day.

* * *

><p>Night fell.<p>

The bustling town slowly quieten down as the streets were lit up by the yellow street lamps. Balancing himself on the top of of a street lamp, the figure looked down at the town and smiled to himself.

"What a nice town this is. Don't you think so too Natalia?" He asked, his hands folded behind his back as his scarf swayed freely in the cool night breeze.

Behind him, a smaller and slimmer figure emerged from the shadows, her long hair swayed along with the passing breeze. "If brother likes it, then it is nice." She replied obediently.

"Good." The male smiled contently. "We'll have to stay here for a while."

"Is there anything you need me to do here?" Immediately getting what her brother meant, Natalia asked a little anxiously.

"It's really simple da," The male grinned in a bright yet intimidating way. "We just have to kill an extra devil. And then finish what we started."


	25. We'll Meet Again

"Save your tears, it's not the end yet." The man emerged from the shadows, his stare as cold as his expression.

"Not the end? Not the end?! He's dead! Gone! Everything has ended for me!" Arthur wailed, tightening his hug on the motionless body that was slowing losing body heat.

He could feel his heart ache with every single beat, the blood in him ran cold as desperation filled him.

He's dead.

Alfred's dead.

Gone.

And it was all his fault.

"Say, how much do you love him?" The man asked as he walked towards Arthur, stopping when he's just a step away.

"What's the use of asking that now?" he asked, looking up at the man with red slightly swollen eyes; results of the frantic wails.

"Just answer me. How much?" He squatted down to see Arthur eye to eye, slightly grinning.

"… I'd die for him."

Yes.

Yes he'll, and it would never change. Even if Alfred's no longer with him, he'll still die for him. No. In fact, he'll die right now. Maybe, just maybe, they can meet in the other world.

"Well," The man's grin widened to a smirk. "I suppose there's no problem then. I'll let him live again, but you. You'll have to take his place in hell.

Arthur's eyes widened at the offer. Take Alfred's place? Let Alfred live again? Was that even possible? It's not some sort of sick joke right? Then again, it didn't matter. He'll take up any offer now. As long as, as long as…

"Can you really do that?" Arthur interrogated as he grabbed the man's sleeve tightly, in fear that his only possible hope might just leave him.

"Of course I can. What can't I, Satan, do?" Then man caressed Arthur's left cheek with his left hand, wiping the tears dry.

"Come, my poor lost soul. Be my child and serve me. Give me your soul, and I'll restore life to who you love dearly."

Satan? Child? Serve him?

Arthur couldn't understand half of what he had just heard. But it didn't matter, what he had understood was enough to convince him. There's nothing to lose, right?

"Yes. Yes Please. Take my soul. Take it. Just." Arthur looked down at Alfred, then at the man again, his eyes full of remorse and an unknown determination.

"Just make sure he lives. Please. Correct my wrong." He gave a rueful smile as two fresh streaks of tears rolled down his pale face.

If he didn't have that quarrel with him, if he didn't run out across the road, if he bothered to move when the truck was coming at him…If…If…

"Very well. Welcome, my new child." The man smiled, a pair of devil wings grew from the shadows behind him, wrapping themselves around Arthur and Alfred.

Arthur watched as the lights around them were sealed out and lowering his head,kissed Alfred on the forehead for one last time. He knew what's going to come, and to be honest, he wasn't surprised when something took Alfred away from him in the complete darkness.

It just felt empty.

And extremely painful.

"Oh, right. I almost forgot. Don't worry about your love. He'll wake up with a little bad headache and everything would be a dream to him. He won't be able to remember anything about you. I'm sure he'll live a happy life." The man's voice echoed in the darkness, reaching Arthur's ears.

His tears won't stop falling, but he kept smiling. Alfred's going to be alive again. He's changed his mistake. That was all he needed.

As long as Alfred's alive, everything will be alright. He didn't need to be remembered. Alfred will be happier without memories of him. It will just.

Well.

It'll just hurt so much.

* * *

><p>Arthur woke to the cold tingling sensation his tears left on his cheeks. Blinking his eyes to clear the blurred vision, he stared at the pastel ceiling blankly as he recalled the dream with little efforts. Then, he sighed.<p>

It's been almost two years since that day, and Arthur's been busy adjusting to his new identity as a demon, or the Satan's child, as some people would say it.

Being a demon really wasn't as hard as he thought it would be. He maintained his human look with the addition of horns, wings and his tail, and his hair changing red. In fact, the life of a demon was simpler than the life of a human. Besides the occasional mission of collecting some souls here and there, he's practically a free man.

And he would have enjoyed being a demon, if not for the fact that the same memory that he dreaded kept coming back to haunt him.

Having being a demon and living in hell, the world that he belonged for so long, he's forgotten almost all his human memories. But the ones related to Alfred, the ones he wanted to forget about the most, those memories stuck to him like pests.

Boy was that painful.

He's long lost count of the times he dreamt of that night, his last night as a human and the night he lost Alfred. The dream got clearer each time and by now he could even hear the dripping of Alfred's blood and his tears on the gravel road, the menacing and mocking voice of that man, and his own heart breaking. And with that, he woke up to a sweat drenched bed and tears still running down his cheeks, every single time.

Arthur's amazed that he's not crazy yet.

Then again, maybe demons were immune to losing their minds.

He heaved another deep troubled sigh and left his bed to get changed. The clock affixed on his wall showed 1 pm, but from his past experiences, he knew better than waste his efforts trying to go back to sleep.

At times like this, the best thing to do was to go back up to the human world, and try getting drunk.

…Also to purposely forget that demons can't get drunk.

Arthur was about to leave his place when he remembered that it was already December and returning back to his room, he slipped into his coat and left the place, going for that particular bar where he first met Alfred.

He can't help it. Even though he wanted to forget, part of him clung back to the memories he once shared with Alfred, as if by losing them, he'll completely lost everything precious to him.

Maybe that's why he's doomed to suffer like this.

* * *

><p>"Welcome!" The bartender turned to smile at the new customer the moment he heard the door open and close, only to realize that it was one of the old familiar faces.<p>

"Hey Arthur, Can't sleep again?" The bartender, Sam, gave the guy a friendly wave.

"What else?" Arthur waved back, returning the smile as he hung his coat on the clothes hanger beside the door.

Once away from hell, his demon features would automatically vanish, even his hair colour would change into its normal dirty blonde. He would look just like a human, and since he was the only bartender here, he didn't have to worry about this new bartender knowing who he actually was.

Or the fact that he's supposed to be dead.

"So, what are you having this time? Or do you want to go ahead and make your own drink?" Sam asked as he watched the Brit take his favourite sit furthest from the door in the empty bar.

Business's always like this during Winter, especially late hours.

"Tis alright, just the usual this time, I'm not really in the mood to mix anything." Waving the thought away, he simply watched as Sam started on the usual creation.

"You know, I never get why you're refusing my invitation for you to work here. I mean, you're far more skilled than me, and I really need another pair of hands here at times." Sam started as he served the drink. "It's on the house." He smiled.

"Thanks, for both the treat and the offer. But I told you Sam, I am not as free as you think I am." Rolling his eyes, Arthur shook his head as he smiled at Sam's determination.

The guy's been asking him the same question for almost a year now.

"Right, says the one who comes here at midnight almost every day. You either have a lot of time, or you don't need sleep. And if you ask me, I would say both." Sam returned the eye roll as the both of them laughed.

"Fine, I'll give it some thoughts, but nothing's guaranteed." Arthur finally decided to give in as Sam's face lit up.

They continued chatting after that, the topic varied from recent news to the best possible mix a bartender can create. And they would have eventually moved on to really mixing something up, if not for another customer's appearance.

When the door opened again this time, Sam was still the only one looking up. Arthur looked down at his drink; he didn't quite appreciate the presence of someone else in the bar. For all he knew, that someone might just be someone who knew that he's supposed to be dead.

"Brr, man it's freaking cold outside!" A cheerful and familiar voice sounded as the door closed.

Arthur stopped dead in his tracks and immediately turned to look at the new customer. And oh, he could have sworn that if he had a human heart, he would be having a heart attack.

"Hey Al, a little too late compared to the usual time, no?" Sam greeted Alfred with the same amount of friendliness he showed Arthur and gestured for the American to take a seat.

"Thanks dude. Yeah well I got a little caught up with something. Who needs sleep anyway?" The blonde grinned and as he was about to sit down on the nearest seat, noticed Arthur from the corners of his eyes.

Arthur quickly looked away when Alfred looked back, feeling his face flush red. That's him alright. His Alfred. Right there, alive and the same. Except that. To Alfred, he was just another stranger.

"Caught up with something? You mean another one of your horror movies?" Sam laughed, then noticed Alfred looking at Arthur.

"Oh, dear me. How can I forget." He knocked himself on the forehead. "Alfred, that gentleman over there's Arthur, he's a regular just like you. Arthur, this is Alfred." He introduced and unknowingly forced Arthur to look back at Alfred and wave.

Arthur never thought that he would feel this awkward in his whole life.

"Now that I think of it, you two practically started becoming regulars at the same time! Oh Alfred, remember that mix you really like? Arthur taught me that, he's a really skilled bartender in disguise." Sam noted, ignorant to Arthur's obvious attempt to escape and get as little attention as possible.

"Really? Dude! That's totally cool!" Alfred's face was covered in amazement as he shifted to sit next to Arthur instead. The latter almost jumped in his seat.

Arthur couldn't understand his own feelings anymore. It's obvious that Alfred really didn't remember anything, but. Heck. Everything about him was the same and he just couldn't help but feel excited to be able to not just see, but interact with the one he loved so much.

"You two go ahead and chat; I'll go and check the stock." Sam passed Alfred his mix and disappeared into the 'staff only' room, leaving the two alone. One was happily drinking his favourite mix and the other was doing all he can to stay calm.

"So, name's Alfred F. Jones, but like Sam's said, you can just call me Alfred. You?" pushing his empty glass aside, Alfred decided to finally start a conversation with the somewhat interesting person beside him.

"Arthur Kirkland, but just Arthur will do." Arthur replied, still trying to convince himself that it's alright to look at Alfred and that he won't suddenly lose self-control and just hug Alfred or anything.

Though honestly, he really wanted to do that.

"Oh, Arthur. Cool name. Arthur. Arthur. Hmm. Arthur." Alfred started repeating Arthur's name, using a different tone each time, and actually managed to annoy Arthur

"Why, may I ask, are you bloody repeating my name for no purpose?" He finally looked up at Alfred, the little bit of annoyance kept him well and calm.

"Well you don't just meet someone called 'Arthur' anywhere. It's a really cool name, like, 'King Arthur', 'Artie' or something." Alfred explained, his eyes sparkling like a five year old that just caught his first butterfly.

The Brit on the other hand was not amused as he felt his eye twitch.

"But you know, even though I'm sure this is my first time meeting someone called Arthur." Alfred smiled at Arthur, "Something in me tells me that I am really used to calling this name."

Arthur's eyes widened upon Alfred's words as unknown feelings filled him. Even if all memories of him were being erased...

"M-maybe you heard it from some TV series or something." He stuttered, taking a sip of  
>his drink.<p>

"Hmm..? You think so? I don't think it works that way though. It's like, your name somehow rings a bell, but I just don't know what." Alfred continued to explained, and as he voice trailed off, he suddenly noticed something that made him blush a little.

"D-don't get me wrong! I'm not trying any weird pickup line or anything! You are a nice person and even though we just met, it feels like I've known you for a long time. But err… I don't mean what I said in err. Um…" Alfred stuttered, trying to explain things as he observed Arthur's expression.

"I… Just made it more confusing, didn't I?" he asked, and as the Brit nodded, sighed.

"Erm… haha… Let's talk about something else." Alfred suggested as he pulled a sheepish smile.

"Well then, mind telling me why you are in a bar at…" Arthur looked down at his watch. "3 AM in the morning?"

"Dude I want to know that too, Sam once told me that there' a regular who loves coming at midnight and stuff, that's got to be you right? Why are you always here? You know, besides drinking."

"Excuse me? I asked you first, didn't I?" After talking for quite a bit, Arthur had, surprisingly, found himself automatically interacting with Alfred like how they used to.

It's like some things never change no matter what you do.

"Oh, right. My bad." Alfred shrugged. "I don't really drink much, but when I walk past this bar, there's just this feeling that tells me that. Well… That this bar means something to me. Before I knew it, I became a regular!"

"I suppose we are pretty similar, this place is pretty important to me. Here's where I first met the idiot who soon turned out to be the most important person in my life." He said with a slight smile.

"Woa, man, that's cool. It must be nice to have someone you love." Alfred exclaimed with a sigh.

"…Don't you have one?" Arthur raised a brow, knowing that Alfred's definitely got the charms and whatever's needed for a relationship. Though, it might seem selfish, but he was secretly happy that Alfred wasn't in a relationship with anyone else.

"Not really. There were a few ladies who asked, but I just don't think that any of them is the one I'm looking for. But to be honest, I have no idea who I'm looking for at all. I'm actually hoping that I could find the person for me here in this bar. Since, you know, my heart obviously wants me here." He smiled and looked up at the bar's ceiling.

"Huh…" Arthur looked down at the table and took another sip of drink, ignoring the small grin that crawled up on his face.

He first met Alfred in this bar.

"Say, what happened to that love of yours?"

"Hmm? Oh, I left him." Arthur simply said, his eyes blankly staring at his glass of drink.

"What? Why?! You still love ... him, right?" Alfred immediately sat back straight to Arthur's answer, his eyes wide open and his mouth ajar.

"It's for his own good, I suppose. Of course I still love him, he's going to be the only person I love so dearly. But I had to leave him, there's no other way out of it." He sighed, smiling at himself.

"... I'm sorry for bringing that up." Alfred apologized and as Arthur nodded, the bothof them sank into silence again.

"But you know, that just gave me an idea on what my purpose here might be!" Grinning, the blonde suddenly said as he looked back at Arthur, sky blue eyes meeting the emerald green ones.

"…And what would that be?"

"To accompany you of course! As a hero, I can't just walk away from a poor and lonely soul!" Alfred nodded, sounding all determined.

"… Since when did I become the lost and lonely-"

"Don't worry dude! I may not be as great as that love of yours, but I'll at least be here when you need someone to talk to!" Alfred interrupted with a confident smile as he winked.

"... I think I was doing well talking to Sam when you budged in. Besides, what makes you think that I'm free enough to talk to you-"

"If you are free to come drink at such a late time, then you're never too busy to join me! Here!" Grabbing Arthur' left hand in one hand and his own pen in the other, he quickly scribbled some numbers on Arthur's palm.

"That's my phone number, and if you're ever lonely, you're free to call the hero anytime!" Ignoring Arthur's glares, Alfred explained, his warm and cheerful smile maintained on his face.

"Why do I even need-"

"Ahh! Look at the time! I have to go now, but remember to call me when you're lonely! See ya again, Artie!" Not giving the Brit a chance to say no, Alfred shot up from his chair, shoved the money for the drink on the table and almost literally ran out of the bar,leaving a very confused male behind.

"Phew, glad that that's over." Sam heaved a sigh of relief as he walked out of the room, holding a checklist in his hand.

"Eh? Where's Alfred? Did he leave already?" Looking up to see only Arthur, Sam asked as he looked towards the door, confirming his thought when he saw Arthur's lone coat on the coat hanger.

"Hmm... That's strange. it's not like him to leave without a goodbye." Muttering to himself, he looked back at Arthur, who was staring at his own palm, looking somewhat flustered.

"Say..." Arthur finally muttered as he looked up at Sam, managing something between a grin and a smirk.

"If I work here, can I get flexible working hours?"

Ah well. So far for being a free man. No matter. They'll meet again real soon.

* * *

><p><em>Sorry my fellow fangirls. I wrote this, and i had to dump it somewhere. <em>

_Probably going to be the last Demon!Iggy I'm ever going to write. :3_

_And if you didn't notice, Alfred's already gotten a little crush on Arthur after their little convo. Since he's not one to take 'No' for an answer, he took the 'Give phone number and run for it' approach. /nods/_

_AND HORRY SHEET I AM SORRY I MISSED POCKY DAY Q_Q ALWAYS WANTED TO WRITE USUK POCKY, BUT DIDN'T GET TO DO IT AFTER ALL /WAILS _


	26. One in a repetition part 1

_Warning: This is the continuation to 'We'll meet again' (no not the super popular one, just the one in this collection). This is also the start of my **first ever USUK angst**. I have had several friends throw things at me after they read this. So please... Ready yourself before you read it. _

* * *

><p>"I can't believe another year has passed just like that." Sam sighed with a helpless smile, busy wiping the wine glasses dry.<p>

"You sound like an old man." Arthur mused at Sam's words, wiping the bar counter at the same time.

It was half past eight in the evening and the bar was scheduled to open in thirty minutes. Listening to the relaxing music playing in the background, the two bartenders continued with their daily duties, breaking into little chats here and there.

"Time is merciless." Sam replied, holding the transparent glass up to the light. "But this year wasn't as bad as last year; you should try running this bar yourself sometime." He suggested. "It gets so busy at times that you won't even be able to catch your breath."

"Been there, done that." Arthur mummered to himself, smiling.

To tell the truth, he too was surprised by how fast the year had passed for him compared to the past two years. Maybe the simple presence of Alfred in his life had made it more bearable. Just the thought of being able to see him again every night was enough for Arthur to maintain a positive mood. It was still a little weird to be friends with him again, and tell him everything he's told him before… But Arthur couldn't ask for more.

"Phew! That should be the last one." Sam heaved a sigh of relief as he placed the crystal clear glass onto the glass holder, wiping invisible sweat off his forehead.

"Not so soon, old man." Grinning, Arthur pointed to another crate of wine glasses laying in the corner. "It's Saturday night, expect twice the number of guests." Sam let out a dramatic wail of despair, the other bartender laughed.

"Don't suppose you'll lend me a hand." Sam glanced at the Brit who was still laughing.

"Sorry Sam, got to catch the news." Arthur replied with a grin as he turned on the television just in time to hear the local news.

"What did I ever expect from you." Wiping a dramatic tear off the corner of his eye, Sam turned back to his work, mumbling something to himself as he did. Arthur laughed. After working with Sam for almost a year now, he had come to realize that he was a dramatic and generally very funny person. Apparently, Sam had wanted to be a comedian, but his future was decided when he took an interest in wine. And now here he was, creating various drink and cocktails to his fullest content.

_"Earlier today at 6pm, a tragic car accident had occurred. "_

Arthur looked up at the TV, suddenly alert to the news. Car accidents were actually pretty common, but Arthur couldn't help but pay attention to all of them; he almost lost Alfred in that hit-and-run.

_"The accident, according to the witness, involved a truck, a male and a child."_

Arthur's eyes widened to the description, a chill ran down his spine as he mentally persuaded himself that it was just a coincidence. There's plenty of trucks out there and countless males. He kept his eyes locked to the screen as the reporter moved on showing the interview of the witness.

_"I-it happened really fast. The kid ran out to the middle of the road to get his ball, a-and the truck was just coming right at him. We all thought we lost him, but this guy suddenly came out of nowhere and pushed the kid aside. Then before we knew it, t-there was a screech, and… There was just blood everywhere. "_

Arthur looked away from the TV screen and took a deep breath. He was taken aback by how similar the two accidents were. He kept telling himself that it was just a coincidence and he had nothing to worry about, but doubt had already sprouted, and it wouldn't stop growing. Arthur's blood ran cold when he heard what the reporter had to say.

_"The Victim, identified as Alfred F. Jones, was immediately sent to the ER in the local hospital. He suffered several fatal injuries including fully broken bones and ruptured organs and is likely unable to li-"_

The television screen went black in an instant. Arthur spun on his heel to look at Sam, who was putting the remote down and offered him a consoling smile.

"Go ahead. Not expecting you to lend me a hand at all today." Nodding a thanks, Arthur stood up and dashed out of the bar, the hospital was a bright target in mind.

* * *

><p>"I'm sorry sir, but I'm afraid that the doctor is still operating on the patient." The receptionist answered apologetically, avoiding eye contact with the ash blonde male in front of him.<p>

She saw the patient when they wheeled him into the operation room, and was told by the doctor himself that the patient probably wouldn't live through it. What a pity too. She's learnt the cause of his injuries from the news broadcast a few hours later. Guess being the hero had its price.

"… I see. Thank you" the male nodded, sounding both disappointed and anxious, but still managed to stay polite.

Unlike some people who would either start banging at her desk, demanding to know how things were, or started wailing at the top of their voice. Both types were too noisy for the hospital, that's for sure.

"Would you like to take a seat? You might have to wait for a few hours" she offered as she stood up from her chair, pointing to the rows of seat at the waiting area.

"Oh, it's alright. I need to hurry off to somewhere else" the male replied, smiling slightly. It was obvious that it was a forced one though.

She sighed quietly, feeling sorry for the male. But she was not the doctor, there was nothing she could do to accelerate the operation. The man muttered a goodbye and turned to leave, utterly defeated. However, she decided that she had to do something for the poor guy.

"I'm sure he'll be alright." She said quite desperately before the man walked into the elevator. "So… Umm… Believe that he can pull through it." She added uncertainly, nodding to herself and then to him.

The male smiled, a little more sincere this time. "Thank you for your kindness, Miss…" he glanced at her name tag. "Elizabeta, I wish you a good day ahead."

"I wish the same for you too." She smiled and watched as the lift doors closed, concealing the man within.

* * *

><p><em>Uh yeah you can throw things at me if you want to ._.<br>Review for the next chapter. Writing angst is so damn tiring gosh.  
>Beta-ed by Dorayaki chan, Inspired by Ask-devil-England Blog. (he basically inspired every single Devil AU here)<em>


	27. One in a repetition part 2

"Where is he?!" Grabbing the shoulders of the devil in front of him, Arthur asked, fighting to keep his tears back.

"I've heard the news, there's nothing you can do about it." The devil, Alfred, answered coldly.

Having spied on Arthur for a few times, Alfred had come to know this human who shared the same name and appearance with him. Their personalities were a tad bit different though. To be honest, he thought that the human dying was probably quite a lucky occurrence. All that human did was cause pain for Arthur.

"Where. Is he." Arthur repeated again, growling the words out one by one. Now was not the time to be patient.

"I don't know." He lied, putting on an expressionless face. Arthur glared at him and took his hand off his shoulders in disgust. "Then get out of my way." He hissed as he marched pass Alfred.

"Arthur." Alfred grabbed Arthur's hand, stopping him. "Give it a rest. You've done enough."

"If you're not going to help, let go!" Arthur spat the last two words into the other devil's face like daggers. He had long lost all his patience.

"I'm trying to help you! You're the one who needs to let go-" His sentence was interrupted by Arthur, slapping him right across the face. With that, there was silence. Enraged green eyes glaring right at unforgiving cold blue ones.

"Don't talk like you know anything." He growled and taking the chance, pulled his hand free from Alfred's grasp. "You know nothing about love. "

"What's there to know about it? It is nothing but a useless emotion, only capable of weakening a human. That's all." A dark voice sounded behind Arthur, the latter spun around almost immediately.

"What seems to be the matter, my child?" The man asked, coming out from the shadows, just like the first time they had met.

"What happed to the happy life you promised?! Why is he dying again!? You lied!" Arthur shouted, pointing at the man in a fit of frustration and desperation.

"Nonsense. I never lie." The man furrowed his eyebrows. "His life was happy as it lasted. You choose what you get, and he chose to save the child despite knowing that he would die. If there's someone you should blame, it would very much be him."

"It's not supposed to end like this! He's not supposed to die!" Arthur wailed as he fell to the ground; his knees were too weak to hold his unstable frame. The tears which he held back were let loose like a dam, rolling down his pale cheeks in streams.

He just got to know him again… They just started to be close again… There was so much he hadn't told him, so many more memories of their past had not yet unfolded…

"… Father, is there really nothing you can do?" Standing at the side and watching all of it, Alfred finally stepped up.

"I'm afraid so." The man shook his head slowly. "For a life we bring, a life we must take. Arthur's long lost his soul. There's nothing I can do." The man turned to return to the darkness, but paused, as if he had remembered something.

"Arthur, just how much do you love him?" He asked, looking down at the demon. "Is the love between the two of you enough for you to never see another day?"

"I've already given my soul, my entire being for him. There's nothing I wouldn't do." Arthur answered, roughly wiping the tears away from his face. Now was not the time to cry, not until he's tried everything.

"Very well then." The man nodded, "It's not advised for us beings of darkness to mingle with them. But seeing that you've nothing to lose,perhaps a talk with the winged one is desirable." With that, he vanished into the darkness, leaving a baffled, tear-stricken Arthur all alone.

"Arthur, please." A hand rested on Arthur's shoulder, getting him to look at the speaker. "Stop this. You can't go to the angel." Alfred persuaded, brows knitted.

"Tell me where to find him."

"…"

"Alfred, please." Reaching out to hold the hand on his shoulder, Arthur looked up at Alfred with tear filled eyes. "I need to save him, I love him too much to see him die. So please…" He brought Alfred's hand down on his lap and held it with both his hands.

The latter remained silent, mentally debating over what to do next. It was true that he still couldn't understand what love meant to humans, to Arthur. But he knew Arthur's pain, and understood how important that human counterpart of his was to Arthur.

It's just that…

That…

"… Promise me you'll come back." He gave in after much struggles, knowing that he'll probably regret this soon.

His heart ache to see Arthur suffer, but all he could do was end one suffering with another.

* * *

><p>"I'm still surprised that you came to me for help." The angel concluded as he gently placed his cup of tea on the glass table. "It's not every day an angel gets to see a demon at his door."<p>

"Never mind that, can you help me or not?" Arthur asked, slightly irritated by the angel's reaction to his request.

"There's no need to rush," the angel shrugged calmly before standing up. Smoothing the creases on his tunic, he asked. "Why are you doing this anyway? Is that human really worth your sacrifice?"

"That human has a name." Arthur frowned. He knew that being polite was essential, but the way the angel talk about Alfred really pissed him off. "There's no need for you to know anything. If you can't help me, then quit wasting my time."

"Well I suppose I am able to help. All you want is for him to recover right?" The angel asked, moving to stand right in front of Arthur.

"Completely."

"I wouldn't question an angel's efficiency." He shrugged again. "But are you really fine with sacrificing yourself for him? With you going into an eternal slumber, he might just forget about you as time—"

"Eternal what?" Arthur interrupted, a little stunned.

"Eternal slumber… Didn't that old man tell you about it before telling you to come to me?" the angel felt the tip of his mouth twitch.

The latter shook his head in confusion; what else didn't that man tell him?

"Hmm… I guess it won't hurt for me to explain it. Think about your decision as you listen, maybe after I'm done, you won't want to help him—"

"I will."

"Eh?"

"I definitely will." Arthur repeated his answer, sounding more determined than ever.

"… Basically, you fall asleep and never wake up. You won't feel a thing and nothing will disturb you. It's somewhat like a peaceful death I guess." He explained anyway, observing the demon's expression as he spoke.

All he could see was the determined look to save someone, and till the very end of his explanation, the determination stood strong.

"Is that all?" Arthur asked dully as he stood up from his chair. "If that's it. Please start doing your work and make sure he's fine. I'll sleep when I see him wake up." With that, he turned to leave the place.

"Aren't you afraid?" the angel asked, puzzled by Arthur's calm reaction. "Even though it's painless, it's no doubt just like death. You can no longer see or feel anything and he will never get to see you again."

Arthur paused in his tracks and turned to smile at the angel. The latter looking more confused than ever.

"I have been afraid since the beginning, and having to lose him again is definitely painful. But if I don't do this, he might not live to see tomorrow." Turning around, he started walking again. "It doesn't matter if he forgets about me and moves on. As long as he's happy, I'll be fine."

He was destined to leave Alfred forever since the car accident. But fate took pity and granted him another year with Alfred.

Now.

Well.

It's time to arrange things back into place.

"Come back here in 3 days. I'll create a miracle for you." Behind him, the angel shouted out.

A miracle huh? Arthur smiled and wiped his tears dry before he muttered to himself.

"It's about time."


	28. One in a repetition part 3

Standing in front of a door way too familiar to him, Arthur fished the old key out of his pocket. Unlocking the door, he gently pushed it open and entered the apartment—his apartment.

Since he 'left' in a hurry, he never got to sell or pass the apartment to anyone. So it sat here, still and undisturbed for almost three years now. Apparently, three years was more than enough time for the air to turn suffocating stale and for the furniture to collect a thick coat of dust.

Since no one's been paying for the bills, the electricity and water's long gone, explaining the stench coming from the kitchen. Arthur decided that no matter what he does, he's not opening the fridge. Instead, he moved to the windows and opened them, immediately inviting fresh air into the stale room.

Night had already fallen and the moon perched in the dark clouds, providing the world with a fair share of light. Before Arthur could notice it, he was already staring up at the moon, dazed. The moon looked ever so peaceful and quiet, unlike the 'exciting' day he had just lived through.

He sighed and leaned against the window pane, breathing in the cool night air in hope that it would snap him from the daze. The air was apparently not cool enough. So he stayed there, both psychically and emotionally drained to do anything else.

There was, in fact, a lot to do. Arthur grabbed a chair and sat in front of the window, facing the moon with his eyes closed as he thought of how things would be like after the so called miracle.

After three days, Alfred would probably wake up feeling better than ever. He wouldn't feel any pain or discomfort, and might even be interviewed and thanked for what he had done. Everyone loves a hero who sacrificed himself to save a little boy.

Arthur smiled to himself as he thought of Alfred grinning. The guy's always wanted to be a hero, and now he was one. The doctors would probably be amazed at how he managed to survive a crash that serious. Man, Alfred's going to be so proud of himself after that.

Knowing him, Arthur's sure that Alfred will start bragging about it to everyone he knew. Then he would visit Alfred in the hospital with all his favorite food. The git's going to be so happy and excited, only to be stopped by his doctor and told to stick to light food for now. Then he'll just eat the food in front of that idiot, then laugh at the expressions he would make. Knowing himself, Arthur knew that he would give in to Alfred's puppy face sooner or later, and feeling guilty, he'll secretly pass Alfred a burger or two…

Oh wait.

How could he forget? He won't be there with Alfred after the three days… not anymore…

* * *

><p><p>

Arthur woke up the next morning, still on the chair and facing the window. His face was almost numb after one night of tears and cold breeze. Standing up for a good stretch, he patted his face awake and dragged himself to his bedroom.

There won't be breakfast since all he could find in the fridge would be fungi, and there won't be a need for any meal either. He hardly had the appetite to eat anything anyway.

Once he was in his bedroom, he ignored the dust and simply dumped himself on the bed, sending dust flying in the air. Turning his head to the left, he found himself staring at a photo on the bedside table. The photo stood in a brown wooden frame, also covered in a layer of dust. But the two figures in the photo could be still seen. The taller of the two had his arm around the other's shoulder as the two smiled at the camera. Behind them, was the Eifel Tower.

Arthur sat up on the bed and took the photo frame in his hand. Wiping the layer of dust away, he stared at the photo as his mind raced to remember when this was taken. The moment he remembered it, however, he started smiling to himself.

How could he ever forget their trip to France? It was probably the funniest trip he's ever had.

Personally, Arthur didn't quite fancy France. As for the reason to that, he blames a certain Frenchman he used to know. But when Alfred bought tickets there as a birthday present for him, Arthur knew that he couldn't say no. So the two packed their bags and arrived at Paris the next day.

The food there was good, he had to admit. And for a country known for being romantic and whatnot, he wasn't surprised by the number of people selling roses by the streets. But he was surprised when Alfred bought a single stalk of rose from every flower seller they passed by, then almost forcefully stuffed them in his hands.

By the end of the day, he had to carry a large bouquet or red roses into the hotel, and to be honest, Arthur was sure that his face was as red as the roses when they walked to the lobby. God the amount of people staring at them with a knowing smile was just scary. Alfred, on the other hand, seemed pretty proud of his doings.

… And then there was the part where Alfred decided that they should have a candlelight dinner and almost set the whole room on fire…

Hugging the photo close to him, Arthur found himself feeling a little better compared to yesterday. The countless memories shared between him and Alfred; be it funny or serious, happy or sad, those were things that made them special. Those were the memories that only they share. So even if he would no longer be with Alfred, the memories of them will be with him, accompanying him.

With that in mind, Arthur gently placed the photo on the bed before jumping off it. He bent down and looked under his bed, pulling two large card boxes out. Opening the boxes and coughing to the dust in the air, he revealed two boxes filled with photo albums and journals, all of which recorded their past memories in one way or another. Taking a deep breath to prepare himself, Arthur picked a random album out and started flipping through it.

Since Alfred's lost the past memories of them, the least he could do was share them with him again. And if fate would allow it, these memories would still mean something to him.


	29. One in a repetition part 4

Sam stood in the staff room, settling the last bit of administrative work for the day. It was a quiet day and he had decided to close the bar early to give Alfred a visit. He had been following the news and was elated to know that Alfred had survived the critical stage and was recovering at a steady pace.

He had anticipated a call from Arthur about the great news, but there was never a word from Arthur since the last time he saw the Brit. To be honest, he was getting a little worried. Something was amiss.

But his plans for the day had to be cancelled when he heard the bar's main door open and closed. Sighing to himself, he scratched the jumbled thoughts off his mind and walked out to the welcome the guest.

His jaw dropped when he found Arthur sitting on the regular seat in the empty bar, managing a faint smile at him. Sam blinked his eyes in disbelief; it might just be him, but Arthur looked so tired that he could just drop on the floor and sleep forever.

"Whoa, what happened to you?" He asked, concerned. "You look like you got ran over by a herd of cows several times!"

"…It's nice to see you again too, Sam." Ignoring the down right ridiculous description, Arthur waved at Sam. The latter walked out from behind the counter and took a seat beside Arthur.

"Greetings aside," Same waved the matter away dismissively. "Where have you been? Have you been watching the news? Alfred survived, and he's coming back strong!"

"Really?"

"Absolutely. The doctor said that he might even be waking up soon. Talk about a miracle!"

"I see…" Arthur's face lit up, the tired face truly smiling. At least he knew that the angel wasn't lying to him.

"…Where were you?" Noticing that Arthur had no idea how Alfred's doing, Sam asked in suspicion.

"…" Arthur didn't answer, and instead, took out an A4 sized brown envelope from his coat. He placed it on the table and pushed it towards Sam, the other focused on the seemingly bulky envelope, wonder what it was for.

"I have to leave for a place tonight, and I probably won't be there when Alfred wakes up." Arthur sighed, lowering his head to look at the black table top. "So if you can, please do me a favor and pass this to him for me."

Sam took a few glances between the envelope and Arthur before he finally replied. "Will you come back?"

The latter remained silent.

"Man, you seriously owe me a big one." Taking a deep breath and heaving it out in a sigh, Sam took the package in his hand. Arthur smiled thankfully at him.

"I'll definitely make it up to you."

"Tell me that when you come back."

Arthur found himself speechless again; there's no way he's coming back, was there?

"Well then. I better get going if I don't want to miss the visiting hours." Taking Arthur's reaction in, Sam decided not to ask any more questions.

With that, the two of them stood up from their seats, waved their goodbyes and went their separate ways.

* * *

><p><p>

Alfred woke up to a very surprised and happy nurse. Then, as his mind was taking its time to slowly start working, people were already moving in and out of his ward.

Among the people, there were elated and surprised doctors who ran checks on him one by one. There was the load of reporters with their flashing cameras and recording devices. Questions were asked and Alfred answered all of them with a smile. Towards the end of it all, there was the little boy who he saved with his parents.  
>The boy's parents thank him profusely for saving their child and the boy had sincerely apologized for his action, then thanked him once again. Alfred sat through it all with a smile on his face, simply happy because he was able to make a difference. It was like he's a hero of some sort.<p>

After the visiting hours had passed, his ward finally returned to its usual quiet but not-so-empty state. The visitors brought with them fruits and flowers, stacking them up on the table and on the floor; quite the sight actually.

But something was amiss.

Where's Arthur?

"Looks like you've gotten quite the attention!"

Just as Alfred was about to shout for a nurse and a phone, a voice sounded in the room. Turing to look at the speaker, Alfred was puzzled to see another stranger standing in front of his bed. Wasn't the visiting hours over?

"Oh, no, I'm not a visitor." Noticing Alfred's questioning gaze, the stranger shook her head as she pointed to her name tag. "Name's Elizabeta, but you can just call me Eliz. I'm one of the hospital stuff." She introduced with a confident smile.

"Oh, hey Eliz. Guess you already know my name-"

"Just about every staff in this hospital knows your name. A normal person don't just recover from a serious car accident in three days." She interrupted in a matter-of-fact voice as she invited herself to sit on a chair beside Alfred's bed.

"Ahahaha… Guess miracles do exist." Alfred laughed sheepishly.

"Well, aside from coming here to congratulate you, I'm also tasked to give you something." Bringing her hand up, she waved a brown envelope in her hand; a weirdly bulky envelope.

Alright, Alfred was pretty sure that "get well soon" presents were normally not put in envelopes…

"Thanks!" He smiled as she passed the envelope to him. "For… err…" He looked down at the envelope; it was surprisingly heavy. What the hell's in there?

"I have no idea what's in there, by the way. A man called Sam told me to pass it to you, saying that he's afraid that it'll get lost with all the reporters and whatnot. What a smart man." She nodded to herself.

… Alfred was expecting Sam of all people to know how to wrap a present correctly.

"Oh, he also told me to tell you that the envelope was from Arthur, whoever he is." She added, somewhat reminded of the male she met three days ago. She was surprised when the male didn't turn up at all ever since they last met, but she supposed that the male's probably too busy.

Alfred's eyes lit up at the mention of Arthur's name. He held the envelope up immediately and started to tear it open carefully. Observing this, Eizabeta almost immediately came to the conclusion that this Arthur person was probably very important to Alfred. Well. If that's the case…

"Aw, break's over." She said casually as she stood up. "Got to get back to work. See ya later Al." Giving the Blonde a wave, she left the room, closing the door as she left.

Too absorbed in the suspense to reply, Alfred muttered a goodbye to Elizabeta, his hands still busy tear the envelop open. When he finally managed to fully open the top, he poured the contents of the envelope onto his lap without thinking, which almost led to a heart attack when a recording camera fell out from the envelope and almost bounced off the bed.

Carefully setting the camera aside so it won't tumble off again, Alfred started investing what else he got. Aside for camera, there's four pretty thick photo albums, some post cards, and another smaller white envelope addressed to him. Deciding that it was too early for him to read a full letter, he turned to the photo albums.

Taking the album that had the number 'one' handwritten on the cover, he flipped it open, revealing a photo of him and Arthur. A photo of them would have been pretty normal, since the two of them took a lot of it after they had met at Sam's bar.

But it was the date printed on the photo that shocked him. It was dated six years ago; three years before they officially met.

Confused and in misbelief, Alfred brought the album closer to his face for a closer look. But it was no mistaking that the two people in the photo were them. Thinking that it was probably edited to trick him, Alfred flipped on. But as he went deeper into the album, the confusion built up. Every photo in there was either a photo of them together, or either of them. The dates listed on the photos in the whole album varied by just a few days.

Judging from the backgrounds of all the photos and what they were wearing, Alfred was almost sure that the photos were taken at France, Paris.

But that was the problem. Why was he so sure that it was taken in France? The last time he remembered, he had never been to France before.

Moving on to the second album, Alfred was a little comforted by the fact that the photos were taken in the nature park near his house. But the dates the photos were taken were still way before they met.

Extremely confused and even frustrated, Alfred decided that he should take a break from the photos. He picked the camera up and switched it on, checking its memory. In it were several clips of different length.

Having decided to get this over with in one shit, he chose the longest clip and pressed the play button.

Immediately, the thumbnail of the clip enlarged to fill up the screen and as the clip started playing, Alfred heard a familiar voice in the back ground. Arthur's voice.

_"Alfred? Where are you?"_ The camera view was pretty shaky, so Alfred assumed that Arthur was recording and walking at the same time. The view took a few turns as it moved and for a moment, the movement stopped and the view continued to change from side to side.

… Alfred guessed that Arthur got lost in the park.

_"Arthur! Over here!" _

Hearing his own voice in the clip, Alfred jerked a little and focused on the clip.

The camera had started moving again, this time in a specific direction as Arthur's voice can be heard in the background, asking where the other person was.

Finally, the camera stopped in front of a tree and looked up, revealing someone sitting on top of a high tree branch.

Alfred took a deep breath. That was him in the camera alright. No way Arthur could fake that.

_"Took ya long enough, come on up!" _Alfred invited as he reached a hand out to Arthur.

_"You brought me all the way out here to climb a bloody tree?" _Arthur sounded pretty much pissed.

_"Won't know if you don't climb. Come on, pass me the camera." _

The image became extremely unclear again as the camera was transferred. When the image was somewhat steady again, Arthur's image was being shown.

_"This better be worth the trouble you git."_ Arthur huffed, looking trouble and pissed. Seemed like someone wasn't keen on climbing trees.

_"Trust me on this one. Now give me your hand, I'll help ya."_ Alfred offered, followed by a hand reaching out to grab Arthur's.  
>There was more blurred and extremely shaky images following that as the two climbed, and Alfred came to the conclusion that neither of them in the clip were good cameraman.<p>

By the time the image was clear enough for Alfred to figure out what was going on, the two in the clip had both made it up on the branch and the camera was once again in Arthur's hands.

_"Well? Mind telling me what I've just scaled a tree for?" _

_"Dude, you barely climbed 10 meters." _

_"I'm pretty sure it will still hurt if I kick you down from here though."_

_"Alright alright, before you go all violent, look in front of you"_

The view was turned to the front, and Alfred gasped at the image, accompanied by Arthur's gasp in the clip's background. Below them at ground level, was a huge patch of pink flowers, grown in such a way that it spelled out three letters. Well. To be exact, two letters and a shape.

_"It says 'I love you' .You know, in case you're too tired to see clearly." _

_"…Can't you seriously write it on paper? It's so much simpler!" _

_"…Is that seriously all you have to say?"_

_"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought you already knew that I love you." _

With that, the screen went blank as the clip ended. Alfred stayed unmoved as he tried digesting what he had just seen.

For some reason, he had a feeling that he should have started with the letter after all. With an extremely stressed and confused mind, he reached for the neglected letter, hoping to finally find an answer.

* * *

><p><em>I AM ALIVE!<br>Well. No. I'm actually still pretty dead, but Im planning to write more soon. This story took me forever and my thoughts on it is that I'm never ever writing angst again.  
>This should end in the next chapter. If it doesn't, please just kill me with something. I'm serious. <em>

_Anyway~ it's a little confusing till the end with the clip and all. But basically Alfred saw a old clip of him and Arthur in the park. And he grew "I love you" using flowers to confess to Arthur.  
>And then Arthur just told Alfred that he love him too. Way to go Arthur, look at all the efforts you put into that. <em>


	30. One in a repetition part 5

I kind of made a huge mistake and missed out on posting a huge chunk of the So please, before you read this, go back to part 2 of this story and read the bottom half of it. Yes, I have added the missing chunk up there. **No seriously you have to read that part. **

Meahwhile,this is finally the end of this story and I hope that you guys have... enjoyed it.  
>Credits to Dorayaki-Chan for most of the Emo Alfred. I couldn't write it myself, so she had to help me OTL.<p>

Come come, review to get a hidden ending. /not kidding, i really have a very small chunk of hidden ending/

* * *

><p>The letter felt heavy in his hands.<p>

Alfred took a deep breath as he unfolded the paper and stared at the familiar handwriting. He swore, Arthur's cursive handwriting was pure art. He could even read it, which was saying something about cursive handwriting. As much as he wanted to know what was going on, he had the feeling that he probably wasn't ready for whatever was in the letter.

Honestly, why did he have to deal with all these mind boggling stuff? He just survived a deadly hit-and-run for goodness sake! But curiosity got the better of him anyway, and he started reading the letter line by line, taking it as slowly as possible:

_"One in a repetition"_

Wow.

What a great and thought provoking title for a letter. Alfred thought to himself as he looked up from the paper, asking himself if he wanted to continue. As far as he was concerned, this letter could seriously ruin his mental health.

The answer, however, was pretty obvious. So he sighed and with a determined look, carried on with the task with a heavy heart:

_"There was once a person named Arthur, who led a normal life being a bartender. He didn't want much. All he needed was some money to pay the bills. He was an average guy with little needs. Once on the job, he met a charming young man named Alfred, and it was, perhaps, love at first sight. Arthur could still remember the way Alfred's sapphire blue eyes twinkled with excitement when the two were together. The pair, obviously, loved each other dearly, but fate tore them apart._

_Arthur was a foolish person, you see. His foolishness cost his love in an accident, and all that was left was Alfred's cold body in Arthur's arms. Overwhelmed by sadness and guilt, Arthur turned to the darkness for a second chance. The darkness heard and answered to his pleas, allowing Arthur to take Alfred's place in death._

_The contract was sealed and Alfred came back to life, bearing no memories of Arthur at all. The other was made a demon, forever enslaved by his past memories of losing his love. The two were to never see each other again, but the cruel mistress fate thought otherwise._

_They met in the bar on a snowy night, both burdened by the purpose they served. Arthur was thrilled to meet Alfred again. But pained too, by the fact that Alfred could not remember their shared past. Though Arthur was determined to start anew, for with old memories forgotten, new memories will be made._

_Oh, how foolish Arthur was for being so naïve. Fate had already decided their future. His love shall once again be lost, and history would repeat itself. Funny how that works isn't it? Desperate and broken, Arthur could not bear for his love to leave him again. So turning to the light, he begged for a miracle._

_Light, you see, was kind. With the price of an eternal slumber, a miracle was granted. With three last days on his hand, Arthur decided to leave Alfred with one last item, a farewell gift. So off to his old apartment he went, where he wept through the night. Sobbing of shattered dreams and past memories. But perhaps what he was really crying about, was the fact that he had to be torn in half yet again._

_It was then when Arthur came up with a somewhat brilliant idea. Even though the fact remained that his love had lost his past memories, there was nothing stopping Arthur from sharing them with him again. Thus with a heart as heavy as lead, Arthur sat alone in his room, and opened himself to the past memories. Carefully selecting the more precious ones. He packed them up in an envelope, and wrote a story in hope to explain things._

_Now, Arthur had always been a foolish person, and he had made countless regrettable mistakes in his life. But he would never regret meeting his love again, and will fight fate no matter how impossible it would be. For the new memories made were the ones he would never forget, and the moments with Alfred were time well spent._

_Alfred, please forgive Arthur's selfishness, for you've already left him once; it's his turn now. Please do not feel sad, for he wished for your happiness. Please do not cry, for your tears will only drown him in his sleep. Please remember that he loves you, for that's what will keep him going. Please smile, for that will be the dreams to his endless nights. Please._

_Remember him._

_Remember the person who's loved you oh so dearly._

_Remember the idiot who took your place in death twice._

_Remember me, who would never, ever, regret what I've done.  
>I love you so Alfred.<em>

_I love you._

_I love you._

_I love you._

_-Arthur "_

_…_

_Drip Drop Drip_  
>There was something salty on Alfred's lips.<p>

_Drip Drip Drop.  
>Something cool and wet on his cheeks.<br>_

_Drop Drip Drop.  
>And now it's staining the paper.<br>_

_Drop Drop Drip  
>Go the hell away.<br>_

Alfred swiped at the tears with the back of his hand but the action only increased the tears, making more beads roll down his red cheeks and staining the letter, ruining the 'r' at the end of Arthur's name and leaving permanent marks behind.

Funny how the same thing was happening to Alfred right now. The paper was his heart, fragile, easily torn and stain-able. His heart felt like the poor letter 'r' being ripped apart to it's simple components, totally different from what it was just moments ago. Of course there's much more to be said, but, like Alfred, what _was_ there to say? What could be said to make things right?

_I'm so_ sorry  
>But what for?<p>

_This shouldn't have happened  
><em>It's already happened.

_I...I love you more_  
>But Arthur's already gone.<p>

_Thank you  
><em>That, perhaps, might be the only thing left to say. One silent 'thank you' never to reach Arthur, like how the past memories never reached Alfred. Has Arthur been feeling like this all along? How long has Alfred been blind to all this...If only...

If only...But Arthur was already gone.

Alfred read the letter again, thoroughly and between the lines, trying to find a code, a hint, a sign, anything at all that would hint that Arthur hadn't done his deed yet. But every time it was the same letter in black and white repeating the same terrifying words like a broken record.

If only Alfred had cherished him more, shared even more times with him...but all that was left of Arthur were memories that would slowly fade away as he aged. It wouldn't be easy, but surely they would fade. Alfred wondered if anyone else would miss Arthur or if it was just him alone.

Regrets filled Alfred's mind, and took him over. He couldn't fully understand and accept what had actually happened, but tears won't stop dropping. It was as if his soul itself was weeping for the loss of its love. And he would have continued weeping, if not for what the letter had indicated.

He had to stop crying, for tears will only drown Arthur in his sleep. He had to smile, for Arthur needed a ray of light, and he had to move on. He had to move on, not to forget about all of these and keep them locked in his closet, but to cherish them, and smile at them whenever he chanced upon them.

For that would be the only way to keep Arthur in his heart; that's the only way to love Arthur forever.

"I'll smile for you Arthur." Alfred whispered as he managed a smile on his face. "Just for you."

* * *

><p>Arthur sat at the edge of heaven, looking down at Alfred from above the clouds. The angel had kindly given him some time to just see things through, and perhaps, say his last goodbye.<p>

Wiping the streaks of tears off his face, Arthur smiled to himself. He smiled for how stubborn his was; fighting against fate even though it was useless. He smiled for how everything's about to end; perhaps he could finally get some rest. He smiled for the fact that he was able to protect Alfred; now they're finally even, right?

He smiled… well… because down there in the human world, his love was smiling for him.

"Ready to go?"

Turning around, Arthur nodded at the angel, who stood waiting all this time. It was, perhaps, the angel's way of showing support.

"Don't worry about him." Walking up to Arthur, the angel gave him a warm smile and a little squeeze on the shoulder. "I'll help you keep an eye on him, make sure he keeps away from cars from now on."

"…Make sure he keeps away from anything that could hurt him, not just cars." Arthur sighed, but replied with a thankful smile. "Still, thank you."

With that, he fell back on the soft clouds and closed his eyes, smiling despite the tears that gathered at the corners of his eyes. And then, there was nothing. Arthur's gone, vanished, disappeared.

"… Welcome." The angel replied in a whisper; there was no one to hear him anymore anyway.


	31. -previews 2-

_Don't mind me, just dumping some potential story scribbles here. They are just drafts and ideas for now, but if i get enough positive feedback, i might write it. I am sorry this is not a real update. I'll update after Wed (end of my exams) Love you guys. _

**What Keeps Us Apart**

In this world that we live in, no one is a complete human, and no one hopes to be. People are identified by the markings engraved on the chips inserted into each and everyone's mind. That is, if you could afford it. All who couldn't, well, they die under a gun shot.

In this world that we live in, there's no place for a plain human.

Science is no longer what it used to be. Science is our life now. Everything, from the air we breath in to the ground we step on. Everything is man made, created with science. There's no longer hunger, nor is there any more suffering, not even diseases. Science has catered to everything under the artificial sun, and that included emotions.

In this world that we live in, all of which humans are once scared of are gone. Replacing it are things that we thought could never threaten us. They twisted what we know as truths, and sought to shape us. Mold us not into individuals, but as clones of each other.

There is no longer identity, everyone's neutral, each person is like another. That's no more war, no more conflicts. Nothing.

There is, however, one addition to this world. Some say it was inevitable, that it's the doing of nature. They never did notice that nature no longer exists. Others believe that it's a miscalculation, an error of the higher ups who are desperately trying to fix it. Me? I believe that it's planted there, as a warning and a showcase of power.

They call it Avein, more commonly known as a virus that keeps people apart.

Everyone knows what Avein does to a person. It's a fast acting virus that infiltrates the chip in your brain, frying you and the chip into crisp in an instant. Everyone knows that Avein can be prevented as long as you are not close to anyone else.

But none of them know what Avein truly is.

My name is Arthur Kirkland, and this is the world I live in. Honestly, I can't say that I'm a huge fan of it. Nevertheless, i live like everyone else, half-human and minding my own business. The last thing I would ever want to do is to stand out and challenge the higher ups.

Though amazingly.

That's exactly what I did.

* * *

><p><strong>Untitled <strong>

"Ahahaha... Guess I shouldn't have came here alone after all." Alfred laughed timidly to himself as he walked down the dark and quiet corridor, jumping at every noise he heard.

He was told not to come to the museum alone, but for the sake of his soon-to-be-overdue history report, he decided that grades were more important than that empty warning. But when he found himself alone in the dark museum all of a sudden, he couldn't help it but regret his decision.

"I-it's probably just another practical joke." He stuttered, trying to convince himself as he glanced around, hoping to find someone else in the dark. All he could find, however, was the Museum's staff room.

"...Maybe someone in there could help me." Muttering to himself, Alfred took a deep breath before approaching the half opened door.

Backed up by the experience from years of horror movies, Alfred had come to the conclusion that he either find headways of his current situation or have something absolutely horrifying jump at him.

...

Either way, he's mentally prepared.

he gulped as he reached for the cold door knob, and as soundlessly as he might, pulled the door open. The door creaked as it moved, sending chills down Alfred's spines. Damn. Why was there always something about the doors?!

Poking his head into the dark room first, Alfred scanned the room carefully. Taking a sniff at the stale air, Alfred wrinkled his nose in disgust. The place was pretty big inside, but it was cramped with loads of old and dusty stuff, including three cases full of old yellowed books. Unfortunately, there wasn't anyone in there.

...

"So far for my theories." Alfred sighed, half relieved as he stepped out of the room. He was about to close the door when he heard rustling from a far corner inside the room; the dark corner.

For a moment there, he was ready to dash down the corridor, crying and screaming at the same time.

"... Not here" A soft voice muttered.

"H-huh?" Continuously taking deep breaths to calm himself, Alfred decided that he should at least know what was going on.

"...My head..." There was a dangerous pause. Alfred gulped and tightened his grip on the door knob.

"IT'S NOT HERE!"

Almost immediately after the shrill scream was heard, a shadow launched itself at Alfred. The surrounds was still dark, but enough for Alfred to see what was coming at him.

It was... A sculpture.

A grey rock sculpture lacking a head. From the spot where the head was, dark red liquid was seeping out and trickling down the statue's body. But that wasn't what Alfred should be aware of, it was the fact that the statue was coming at him.

"AHHH! YOU CAN'T HAVE MINE!" Alfred screamed as he instinctively slammed the door right at the statue as he started dashing down the corridor. Behind him, a loud crash was heard and Alfred didn't have to turn around to know that the thing was now chasing him.

"Hehe, are you our new friend?"

Suddenly, a clear voice sounded beside Alfred, and turing his head to look, Alfred almost tripped when he found a little girl floating beside him. Floating. She looked like she was only eight, and was hugging the world's most realistic black cat doll in her arms. But she didn't have legs.

"No but I would like to get out." Alfred quickened his pace, but couldn't shake the girl no matter how hard he tried.

"Great! I'm sure we'll be great friends!" The girl giggled, completely ignoring Alfred's words.

"DON'T JUST IGNORE ME-!"

"Let's play a game, friend. Try your best to survive and find me in the museum's art gallery. If you win, I'll let you out." Smiling, the girl rose up to Alfred's eye level... And totally freaked Alfred out.

She didn't have any eyes, just two bloody sockets.

"if you lose, I get to keep you forever~." She smiled as she slowly faded, leaving a single red rose that dropped into Alfred's hand.

"HEY- WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH THIS?! HEYYYY?! THIS ISN'T EVEN FAIR!"

Alfred started regretting the moment he shouted. His voice echoed through the corridor, followed by a chain of glass breaking. Knowing that was probably not a good sign, he took a deep breath and turned to look for a second.

Second worst mistake of the day.

Behind him was a whole group of headless sculptures chasing after him, eagerly waving their arms and probably getting a share of his head.

"I SAID YOU CAN'T HAVE IT!" Stuffing the rose in his jacket's inner pocket for safe keeping, Alfred summoned all his strength and stared sprinting, aim for the flight of staircase in front of him.

Hopefully sculptures can't climb.


	32. Always

A/N: Ok here's a tip. if my A/N is before the story, then it means that this story is probably not the usual kind. So yeah... You've been warned. The theme for this oneshot is:

**Hetaoni AU: **In which England gets seriously injured and shit happens. Yeah I am sorry I am really bad at summaries. Also it's been a long time since I've actually written a proper one shot, so please go easy on me.

* * *

><p>"Are you sure we'll be safe here?" America asked as he opened the door with his free hand.<p>

"Y-yes. At least for now." Leaning on America's shoulder, England replied with much difficulty. The wound at the side of his chest was still bleeding profusely, a dark red patch had soaked its way to his uniform, eventually staining American's jacket as well.

"Right. Let's get you some rest." Worried by weak England sounded, America quickly suggested as he helped England to a bed at a corner of the almost empty room, kicking the door shut behind him.

Leaning against the wall, England sat on the bed as he watched America locked the door and blocked it with the only other furniture in the room, the wardrobe. He didn't know where the others went, or how they were, but he was sure of one thing; this was as far as he could go. The wound was more serious than he thought it would be, and breathing was already becoming a burden...

A few more hours; that's probably all he could last with that wound.

He sighed. To a country who was told that he could never die, death was a familiar, yet completely new experience to him. He's afraid of it, yes. But he's prepared for it. All that's left... Well...

Was how to break the news to America.

"Of all rooms, this one just have to hold two pathetic pieces of furniture." A little pissed by their bad luck, America complained as he walked towards England, standing beside the bed. "Well that's gotta hold then. You get some rest." He smiled at England; a smile that even he knew was a little stiff.

England smiled back with the best of his abilities, ignoring the stunning pain growing from the bloody wound. Taking slow breaths, he spoke in the best 'normal' tone he can afford.

"You have to rest too." he raised his heavy hand and patted at the empty spot on the bed beside him. "I can't possibly let a tired idiot pull me down."

America was about to argue when he saw the look on England's face. It wasn't the usual scowl or confident grin, it was a weak, tired, yet warm smile, one that he was way too familiar with. He sighed quietly and gently sat himself beside England.

Not a word was exchanged between them after that, but thoughts raged through their minds. It was a mixture of worries; about the safety of the others, the location of the monster, the possibility that they might be trapped forever, and the condition of each other.

They both knew that things weren't looking any bit positive, but neither wish to bow down to fate and admit to that. If they both deny and fight the fact, then there's still hope, right?

"... Say..." England finally spoke, breaking the deafening silence. "If I can't make it-"

"Save your breath and rest." America interrupted, looking up at the blank ceiling with a blank face. "Have a good sleep, and get ready for another day tomorrow."

"..." _What if there was no tomorrow?_ England lowered his head, a little more depressed than he thought he would be. Yes, he was afraid of death. But he's even more afraid that he would lose America. In this case, both were unavoidable.

Getting absolutely no reply from his partner, America sighed in defeat as he looked down at the Brit. "Things will be fine, I promise. All you need is a good rest." _Who's he kidding. Things were never fine from the moment they entered the mansion. _

"What if I fall asleep and never wake up?" After some hesitations, England asked, trying his best to break the news in the most gentle way possible.

"Of course you'll wake up. I'm always by your side aren't I?" America's reply came faster than both of them had expected; but neither side was surprised. Even though they were always quarreling and disagreeing with each other, the unspoken promise of them having each other's back... that promise was always there.

"I'll wake you up when the time's up, so go ahead and sleep." America turned to smile at England, reaching out to hold the latter's cold hand, warming it up. "And if you refuse to leave, then I'll wait by your side, till you're willing to wake up from your imaginary-friend-filled dream and walk with me again."

It's a promise, and he'll keep to it.

"..." England found himself speechless as he stared at the American's smile. There's always something about America's smile that kept him captivated every time. It gave him a sense of security, a feeling that tells him to relax and believe in the person in front of him. It's a calming and soothing feeling, one that he lacked almost all the time.

Then there was America's hand, and the warmth that would spread to his own, making him a little sleepy...

"Then rest with me..." He muttered, feeling the conscience slipping away from him. He leaned his weight on America and slowly rested his head on America's shoulder, feeling the same body heat he felt from America's hand. The pain from his wound was slowing fading, and he knew that soon, everything in front of him would fade to nothing.

Fighting to keep his heavy eyelids opened, he managed one last sentence with all his strength.

"But please, move on without me."

***

Streaks of tears rolled down America's cheeks as England's eyes closed for the last time. He had seen it coming, and had for the past moments, tried to convince himself that everything would be fine. But the cold truth leaned right beside him and rested on his shoulder, and it was way too painful to bear.

Closing his eyes, he tilted his head to gently rest on England's, and started humming a tune. It was a tune England taught him a long time ago, a tune that meant love and sorrow, a melody to a love one who had fallen into a deep sleep.

A promise that should the love one ever wake up, the singer will be right there, waiting and forever loving him.

***

_ "If you refuse to wake up, then I'll sleep alongside you._  
><em> We'll venture into darkness together, and chase away your nightmares."<em>


	33. A warm welcome

Arthur had always hated Americans, and he's got his reasons. Not only were they loud, unknowingly rude, egoistic, self-centered and foolish, they also shouldn't exist. He got mad and upset more than he should just thinking about the independence war, every single time.

"If it wasn't for the British, Americans of the present would be speaking bloody French!" is how Arthur would greet anyone who thought that Americans were better than Brits, better than him.

The great resent would have jolly well persisted without a change, but someone demanded change.

* * *

><p>"Alfred?" Arthur repeated the blond's name, seemingly unimpressed as he unwrapped the sandwich in his hand.<p>

"That's me! Nice to meet ya, dude with thick eyebrows!" The boy, Alfred, pulled a bright smile and reached out to poke at Arthur's eyebrows. The latter growled in annoyance and slapped the hand away. There's no mistaking that this Alfred was speaking pure American accent, and just the way he was acting... Everything about this Alfred reeked of American.

"The dude has a name. I'm Arthur, and I wish to be alone." He snapped, not even finding it worthy to waste his breath arguing about his facial feature.

"Aww come on Artie! What's the fun of sitting alone at lunch break? All you can do is talk to your food!" he lowered his head and muttered beside Arthur's ear, eyeing their surroundings carefully. "People would think that you're weird if all you do is talk to food."

"People can think whatever they want." Arthur scoffed and shoved Alfred's head away. "I could also just eat my food in perfect peace, thank you very much."

"Welcome!" Alfred grinned.

"What- no, I am not actually thanking you. it's sarcasm, don't you even know that?"

"If knowing sarcasm means caterpillar brows, then no thanks dude. I can live without that."

"Then why don't I interest you in a knuckle sandwich instead?" Arthur offered, smiling despite his twitching eye as he lifted his clenched fist at Alfred.

"Nufufu, I'll pass." Alfred laughed and waved a hand dismissively at the fist. "I'm here to make friends, and totally rock this school."

"...Excuse me?"

"Don't you think our school is too boring as it is?" Alfred shrugged as he pointed out in a causal tone. "I've only been here for a day and man, I'm already bored!"

"The school doesn't need change." Having lost his appetite, Arthur scoffed as he wrapped the sandwich back up stood up. "You need to pipe down and fit in."

"Of course the school needs change! If you ask me, the first thing they ought to do is change the school committee head. I heard he's a real uptight person, probably severe anger issues. People like that aren't fun at all!" Alfred pressed on.

"Oh really?" Arthur felt something in his head snap. Uptight? Anger issues?! He wasn't going to take this quietly or so help him he would not dare call himself Arthur Kirkland. So taking the object nearest to him, he threw it straight at Alfred's face.

The latter was more than just surprised to see a sandwich flying at him, hitting him hard in the face. He struggled to catch it before it fell to the ground.

"What the-"

"Take that as a welcome gift." Arthur smiled, a little more threatening this time. "From the World Academy School Committee."

As Alfred's expression turned to a frozen smile, Arthur laughed a little proudly on the inside.

"As the head of committee, I will be more than willing to listen to any valuable feedback you have to offer. Of course," he almost grinned as he clapped his hands together. "don't expect me to change anything. I am not a fun person."

Seeing the somewhat horrified look he placed on Alfred's face, Arthur decided that it was more than enough for a warm welcome.

"Now, if you would excuse me, I'm a busy person." With that, he left the cafeteria, leaving a dumbfounded American behind.

Arthur had his reasons for hating Americans, and seeing one muddleheaded American walking right into his territory and contaminating it with his stupidity, well.

It jolly well meant war.

* * *

><p>An: _I promised something happy. _

_This is a lot of sass. _

_I think sass is like happiness, just one sided. _


	34. Glass Window

**_~Arthur~_**

This is the fifth time this week that the dumb idiot outside my shop has been standing right. there.

I can't say that I'm bothered. But the very fact that I'm being stared at by a complete stranger every day, for at least an hour, is pretty disturbing.

But really. It's not that I mind.

He… proved as a sort of entertainment I guess. It could get really boring here in this bookshop… Don't get me wrong. I love my job and this shop as much as my next cup of tea. But books… They could be a little too quite at times… You know?

That guy, on the other hand.. Well i couldn't hear him with the thick glass window between us, but that didin't really make any difference. I've never seen him talk. All he actually do is stand there and look at me.

That's it.

I couldn't actually remember when he had started this weird habit of …. observing me. People stand in front of the glass window all the time, staring at the shelves of books from their spot, wondering if it's worth their money. So when he stood there, i figured that it was the same and didn't pay any attention to him at all.

But when my fellow book keepers started pointing out that the same person had been standing outside the glass window everyday, I couldn't help but notice him.

When we first made eye contact, however, he almost immediately flinched, as if he was hit by lighting. he quickly took a step back and took off without looking back. it was rather rude if you asked me. Why would he be reacting like that anyway? I know I'm not exactly the definition of handsome, but I'm pretty sure that I'm not a sight to run from.

I suppose that's how I came to dislike him, a complete stranger.

"Oh~ Arthur, mon ami, he's looking at you again."

Feeling a nudge on my arm, I snapped out of my thoughts and turned to face my colleague, who, in my opinion, is the last person suitable to work in a book shop.

Honestly now all he actually does is flirt with the female customers, and that's not even part of the job.

"That's a part of your concern because?" I hissed instinctively. We might be colleagues, but as far as I'm concerned, I don't have to like to him.

"Because it's my duty to guide young lost souls down the road to love." His disgusting face was asking for a punch.

"How about I guide you to hell?" I smiled back, grabbing the pen knife lying by the counter and pointed it right at his neck.

"Non non non, this won't do Arthur. You'll scare our young customer away." Overly experienced with death threats, he calmly pushed my hand away and nodded in the direction of the glass window.

I didn't need to turn around to know what he meant.

"He can scram if he doesn't want to actually buy a book." I rolled my eyes in annoyance as I tossed the pen knife back on the counter, returning to work.

Outside, the idiot was getting ready to leave… it's probably 1 pm then.

I sighed as the figure walked out of my sight, feeling just a little… disappointed… perhaps.

As much as I didn't want to admit it. I've grown used to seeing him standing out there. His behavior still annoy me a little, and he's still running away whenever I try to make eye contact.

But… For some strange reason… I'm curious about him.

it's not everyday where you get to meet a moron with too much time on his hand and all he does is stare at you through the glass window.

If only he would come in and —

The sound of the doors opening dragged me out of my thoughts as I put on my professional smile to greet the customer. What was I thinking? I'm at work, I shouldn't be thinking about this.

"Good Afternoon sir, may I help you with anything?"

I'm probably thinking too much anyway. Why would anyone be interested to talk or know more about me? I'm not exactly the most interesting person around.

"Umm… Yeah… Actually.. You can."

You can almost say that.  
>I'm a nobody.<p>

"M-may I invite you to dinner?"

….

"Pardon?"

I never knew his eyes were this… enchanting.

_**~Alfred~**_

Your name is Alfred F. Jones, and you really need a life.

Honestly now Alfred, what do you think you are doing? Standing here and… admiring that person in there… His eyes are really amazing, but still second compared to the thick eyebrows.

Is it even possible to have such thick eyebrows? You swear you could measure the thickness of that thing with a ruler.

But that's not the point.

Point is, you need to know what you want to do. Just standing here isn't going to do anything. Come on Alfred. be a man and that hero you aspire to be. You have to be brave and courageous! You have to go in there, and talk to him. Ask him out for dinner, talk to him and get to know him better. Y-yeah, just to know him better and be friends… nothing more than that.

You could still clearly remember the first time you walked past the shop and by coincidence, looked into the glass window and saw that person. You didn't know why, but you were just somewhat attracted to him. He's just… Amazing. And that smile of his, you could hardly get it out of your mind.

B-but it's normal, right? It's normal for you to like his smile, that's why you want to talk to him and be his friend right?

Before you knew it, you're always walking past the same shop, and stopping in front of the same glass window, quietly just observing him.

Even you find your own behavior a little creepy.

But you couldn't help it, he's just got this… charm that draws you to him.

That's why you need to go in there and talk to him, Alfred. Just take a deep breath, act like your usual self, go in there, and ask him out for dinner. it's simple!

The person at the other side of the window is now threatening the other shopkeeper with a pen knife. You couldn't help but manage a smile between nervousness and helplessness. After all, that temper is part of his charms too.

You could clearly remember the first time you made eye contact with him. it was wonderful yet terrifying. His emerald green eyes just sent a shock of lightning through you, leaving you confused and shocked. You didn't know why, but you were well aware that your cheeks suddenly felt hotter than usual.

Feeling nervous, you ran away. He's a little intimidating, but that's part of his charms.

he's a little more hostile towards you after that experience, probably mad that you ran away. You were really guilty and upset because of that, but you didn't understand why. But you ended up standing in front of the window longer and longer each time, and now it's increased from the early few minutes to the regular one hour.

You really couldn't understand why, but you simply don't mind spending one hour staring at him every day. It's… interesting, you suppose. He's very interesting, and you couldn't wait to summon your courage and talk to him.

This is the fifth time this week, and you've finally decided to make a move. You're still running away from his eye contact, and he's still probably a little freaked out by your behavior (you're still a little freaked out yourself) but you've decided to give it a go.  
>It's now or never, right?<p>

It's almost 1 pm, when you would usually reluctantly leave the shop. But instead of walking away today, you took the initiative and reached for the shop's door. it feels extremely heavy and cold.

"Come on Alfred. You can do it." You muttered to yourself as you gulped at the pressure.

Taking a second to be mentally prepared, you pushed the door open and entered the bookshop.

So far so good. Keep it up.

"Good Afternoon sir, may I help you with anything" he greeted with the usual smile, almost magically calming you a little.

Easy now.

"Umm… Yeah… Actually.. You can."

The stress is getting a little suffocating now, but you think you can do it.

"M-may I invite you to dinner?"

That's it.

THAT'S IT!

You did it! You said the words, you have become a braver man, you feel so proud of yourself all of a sudden.

But silence takes over and he looked up at you, his eyes enlarged and his mouth slightly ajar.

You bit down on your lower lip. Oh no, did you mess it up?

"Pardon?" He asked, surprised, but not in anyway negative.

You heave a sigh of relief.

That's part of his charms too, the ability to unknowingly manipulate your emotions.

* * *

><p><em>I TRIED AND FAILED HORRIBLY. <em>

_/FIRST ATTEMPT AT FIRST PERSON AND SECOND PERSON WRITING./ _

_IGNORE ME IT'S NOW MY TURN TO GO TO THAT CORNER RIGHT THERE AND START GROWING MUSHROOMS_


	35. Study in the closet pt 1

It was a very old closet.

* * *

><p>America glanced at his watch with annoyance as he tapped his foot impatiently. Turning to stare into the room, he finally decided to hurry England up.<p>

"Dude, exactly how long is this gonna take?" He shouted into the room as the rustling of things sounded in the background.

"I'll be done when you stop rushing me. " Poking his head out of the room, England scoffed. "It's not going to make this any easier you know."

America rolled his eyes.

"How hard can it be to find a suit?!" He challenged with a raised brown. "Besides, we're just going for a dinner."

"At that frog's place." England returned the eye roll. "Now if you actually want to leave my house for that dinner, then shut your trap and wait patiently." Turning to walk back to his room, England suggested.

"Or, I could help you with your pointless struggle." America replied as he followed the Brit into his room, "All your clothes in that pathetic closet look the same anyway-"

He stopped in his track when he found himself in front of a room full of clothes. Now that he thought of it, he had never seen England's closet before. It wasn't, in fact, a normal closet. It was a built in closet the size of a large room.

"You were saying?" Satisfied with the reaction he received, England leaned against the wall and asked smugly.

"I-it's not that big." America quickly stuttered, staggering back to support his stand. "I bet half of your closet is filled with the same clothes anyway."

"Well then why don't you take a look yourself?" He challenged as he pointed to the closet, 'inviting' the other in. "Unless, you're too ashamed to just admit that I have a much better fashion sense and closet than yours."

"Oh, we'll see." Accepting the challenge almost immediately, America grinned confidently and almost marched into the closet, joining England. "My awesome fashion sense will get you the right suit in no time."

* * *

><p>"How about this one?" America asked, pulling a sky blue shirt out of the cramped rack. Without bothering to even turn and look, England shook his head. "I'm not wearing that."<p>

"But you didn't even look!" America protested, holding the poor neglected shirt up. "Dude the color is perfect! It fits my eyes too-"

"We are looking for clothes that suit me." England interrupted with a disbelieving sigh.

"Oh, then do you want a gree-"

"Do you base all your clothes on eye colour?" England finally turned to face America, his expression questioning America's self-proclaimed fashion sense.

Speechless to England's question, America stared pouting at England for a few moments before swiftly stuffing the shirt back into the pile. What a very unappreciative Brit who couldn't understand his brilliant taste for clothes. Oh well, his lost.

Looking back at the rows of clothes in front of him, England couldn't help but smile a little at America's childish display; he swear, the moron's mental age never did go above 15.

Just as he was about to reach out to run through the rack in front of him, another shirt was shoved right in front of him, the bright pink hurting his eye a little. "You have to try this." Having regained his enthusiasm in the blink of an eye, America waved the hot pink shirt in his hand, his eyes literally sparkling with anticipation.

… Oh lord, why did he even buy that shirt in the first place? In fact, he remembered regretting it so much that he hid the shirt in the rack hidden behind the closet door… England almost immediately turned to look at the closet door, which was now tightly shut.

Knowing the implication of that, he sighed again. "Say… Did you close that door?" He asked, pointing to the closet's closed door.

Following the direction England was pointing, America glanced at the door before giving the latter a nod. "Yeah, it was blocking the racks at the back, so I had to close it for a better look. I can't believe you have this kind of shirt hidden back there though-"

"The door can't be opened from the inside." England cut into the American's sentence calmly.

"…What?"

"You've just dumbly locked the both of us in the closet," England rolled his eyes and folded his arms. "Good job, hero."

"… Aww come on!"

How the hell was he supposed to know about the door?!

* * *

><p>America sat on the somewhat spacious ground, grumpily staring at England as the other continued looking for a suitable shirt for the evening. He had tried calling the other countries for help with his phone, but for a closet the size of a normal room, the signal strength was pathetic.<p>

Tired of waving his phone around to detect non-existent signal, America grumbled as he tossed his useless phone on a pile of clothes. "Dude…Why would anyone get a door that only opens only from one side?"

"Under normal circumstances," England explained, giving the male a glance before looking back into his clothes, "I cannot imagine the need for anything to walk out of my closet. Of course, I most definitely did not expect to be locked in."

"Now there's no way we're getting to France's place in time." Hearing the latter's reply and seeing no use in arguing, America sighed and leaned back, sinking into the racks of clothes behind him. He was just about to start complaining about things in his mind when he noticed a specific piece of clothing that stood out from the rest. Standing back up, he turned to the rack and flipped through it, pulling the said clothing out.

It was a child sized dark green cloak, kept in a plastic cover. Unzipping the cover and taking it out, he was a little surprised to find that the cloak was well kept. Old, but very well kept.

"Hey," He called, getting England's attention as he held the cape out. "Is this yours?"

Stopping what he was doing, England looked up, saw the cloak, and smiled a little. So there's where he kept it, almost thought he lost that little thing. "Of course it's mine. Why would it be sitting in my closet if it's not?"

"Well… I don't know. You might have the habit of keeping other people's clothes." America shrugged with a cheeky grin. "I have the rights to doubt someone who uses one-way doors."

"Why you little…" England felt his eye twitch in annoyance. "Why don't you come here and see if it hurts to be beaten up by the person who uses one-way doors?"

"Anyway, you mean you wore this when you were young or something?" Changing the topic to a less violent one, America asked, throwing glances between the cloak and England in disbelief. He just couldn't quite imagine England in this since, well… "How do you even look like when you're young? Was your eyebrows this big then?"

A clothes hanger flew at America the moment he finished his sentence. Slow to react, he took a direct head shot, resulting in him swearing as he knelt down in pain, covering his sore forehead. The culprit, England, grinned proudly. That'll teach the git for making fun of his eyebrows. "That childish remark aside," he folded his arms, " I did wear that when I was young. Green helps me blend in with the forests. The animals like it too."

…Animals?

"Wait, wait a moment right there." America said, raising a hand up. "You… Talk to animals when you're young?" He asked, giving England the look.

"As a matter of fact, yes." England scoffed. "You know, animals make lovely friends and great listeners, unlike some idiot I know who locked us in the closet."

"… Closet aside…" America ignored the sarcasm, more interested in England's early past. "How was it like when you were young?" He asked, sitting down again and looking up at England like a curious five year old. The latter found it a little hard to ignore America's anticipating stare. So sighing, he sat down in front of the American and started the story telling.

* * *

><p><em>Okay so finishing two stories at once was quite the big thing for me, and for a while, i was lost on what to do next. But here I am, writing a story again after so long. This one will be less dramatic and more on the casual side, and I hope you guys will like it.<em>

_I'm starting a Sci-Fi story next, and man I'm excited. _

_Anyway, thanks for reading, and hello once again, I am back ^^  
>(which might or might not be bad news. *cough*)<em>


	36. Study in the closet pt 2

"Wait, so you lived all alone? In the forest?" America's eyes were wide as ping pong balls. "How does that even work? Where's your guardian? Or do you have one but he's just super irresponsible."

England, now joining America on the ground, pondered for a moment. He wasn't exactly alone… But he wouldn't count France as a guardian. A nuisance or a lousy bully, maybe, but definitely not a guardian. The closest he's ever got to having a guardian was probably that lake spirit… He shook his head in response to America's question. Nope. No guardian.

"Man…That must have sucked." He commented as England nodded. There was a moment of silence before America spoke again. "But you know, you weren't exactly very responsible as a guardian either."

England was about to nod to that when the meanings to the statement hit him, and with that, a strong urge to prove the American wrong. "Excuse you. I was a bloody brilliant guardian. You didn't have to live in the forest, did you? You didn't have to hunt for your own food, did you? You didn't have to hide from enemies all the time, did you? I've done quite the decent job protecting and taking care of you as a guardian, if I may say so myself."

"Yeah but I don't think anyone would harm me in the first place, why would I be hiding?"

… Oh right. He's talking about the guy who managed to swing an adult bison around when he's just a child.

"I still have you fed," England insisted, "and got you a roof above your head." He deserved some credits for that, in the least.

"About that…" The latter raised a finger on the matter and England groaned; it's like America can pick on everything. "Your food was bad, like, really bad. Once I fed it to a squirrel and it hated it so much it puked it all out."

"You fed my food to the squirrel?" England raised an eyebrow, obviously frowning. "You fed my hours of hard work and love spent in the kitchen, to the squirrel."

"Hey you gotta share love." America answered with a cheeky smile, shrugging. "I ate it anyway didn't I? For a long time too." He had the feeling that he probably shouldn't have talked about the squirrel. England looked like he's ready to throw a whole metal rack at him.

England snorted and rolled his eyes, unwillingly accepting the almost ridiculous excuse. "And for the house? Any complains on the house that I should know?" He asked with a pinch of sarcasm.

"Yeah, it's huge." America replied almost immediately.

"…Now how is that something for you to complain about."

"It's too big and empty, especially when you weren't around half of the time." He explained.

"Well I'll have you know that-"

"Yes, yes. I know. You have work and a country to run." America interrupted, fanning his hands and England, who growled at the interruption. "You told me that plenty of times, and I can't blame you. Running a country is hard work, and I should know." He's now a country himself, after all, an independent one.

England had to admit, he knew that he had no choice but to leave young America times and times again for work, and now he's heard it from the very person he had left alone, that he didn't blame him. But there's no way he could ignore that small amount of guilt that just wouldn't go away.

He did leave America there alone, and he knew just exactly how bad it felt to be alone.

"… Okay. Enough story time." Seeing the slight change in England's expression, America stood up and clapped his hands together, marking the end of the session. "Let's continue your fruitless and pointless shirt hunt, shall we?" They've plenty of time anyway.

The pinch of guilt and pity for the American was immediately flung out of the window as England got back on his feet too. What in the world was he feeling guilty for? The idiot in front of him probably had his revenger already. They were on a fair term now, at least that's what he tried convincing himself to believe.

The search for the shirt-of-the-night continued, and America's lost count of the number of times England rejected his suggestion. Geez wiz, what's the point of asking him to help when all he's gonna do was turn every one of his suggestion down?

On the other hand, England had accidentally pulled a particular taboo piece of clothing out by accident, and as he struggled to bury it back in the pile, an American exclaimed loudly behind him.

England cursed and swore in his head as he slapped his forehead, sighing. He was really hopping that America wouldn't notice the piece of clothing.

"Is that what I think it is?" America was almost shouted as he walked to England's side, taking the piece of clothing in his hand. It was a general uniform, the kind worn in war. The bright red hasn't faded at all, and the white slashes without a single speck of dust. This particular piece was kept in a clear plastic cover.

"Yes, yes it is. Now hand it over, and let's move on." Sighing again and mentally cursing himself for being careless, England reached out to take the uniform back into his hands.

"But you still kept it!" America exclaimed, clutching to the uniform tightly. "I kept it too!"

"Right okay, now let go-" Wait, America kept it too? The sudden question left him speechless as he stared at the latter in surprise. Why would America keep it too?

"Okay this is obviously another good time for storytelling." America said with an almost knowing laugh as he sat down, then tugged at the Brit's sleeve, motioning for him to sit as well. The ash blonde sighed; he kind of expected this to come. Seeing that there's no way he could escape the 'storytelling' he sat down unwillingly.

"Okay, who first?" America asked as he folded the uniform into half and rested it on his lap. His uniform was kept deep in his closet, nicely wrapped up and placed right beside the suit England gave him a long time ago, the one he had rescued from the dusty storage room. A little ironic, he would admit, but he couldn't think of a better place for it.

Seeing that there's no way he could escape it, England sighed and decided to end the tedious task as soon as possible. He raised his hand for a sec. "I'll start."

"Great." America heaved a sigh of relief on the inside, hearing England's side of the situation would help him a lot in putting his thoughts into words. After all, even someone as thick as him would know that the war between them was still somewhat a sensitive topic. "So, why did you keep it? I thought you would be one to shred anything that reminds you of bad memories, and flush them down the toilet or something."

"…Is that honestly your image of me?" England gave him a skeptical look while the latter simply shrugged. "In any case, I'm not one to try and hide things." He continued, "The war has happened, and nothing could change that. I could have that memory haunt me forever, or take it as it is. History."

"I guess you could say that I kept it for the same reason… More or less." America replied. "I thought I could throw that uniform and all those stuff you gave me away, but man, those things are heavy with memories."

"I thought you don't like clinging to the past." England was a little surprised by America's answer. Personally, he would have thought that the git still had it because he was too lazy to throw it away. The house was big enough to stash a lot of things. "You're always struggling to move forward, pursuing new things like they're your life."

"New things are cool, you can't deny that." America pouted. "If you keep holding on to the old stuff, you're never going to catch up with the world's pace, you know?"

England huffed. "I'm doing just fine, thank you very much."

"Anyway, it's not like I move on without remembering anything. In fact, those times I've spent with you, including that time I fought with you, those are all precious memories. Honestly saying, even if I do throw all those things away, the memories will still stay. " He smiled, looking almost helpless.

England smiled too, "Those were good memories; heartwarming ones, hilarious ones, embarrassing ones," he paused and gave America a look.

"I thought we promised not to mention that again." America remarked, face flushed. The latter simply chuckled knowingly.

"I still have the photos though, just in case you want to refresh the memory." England grinned, ignoring the other's cursing.

"We've also had some real exciting memories," Deciding to get the topic back in like, American continued from where England left off. "Like that time we had a snowball fight when I was still young."

"An unfair snowball fight. It was Canada and you against me."

"You're taller than the both of our heights together!"

"The two of you still won."

"Brother power." America pumped his fist in the air, looking proud as ever.

"Right." England sighed, used to America and his dramatic actions here and there. "We've had some heartbreaking memories too, didn't we?"

"Well at least we got some cool uniform from it." America shrugged and pulled the uniform in his lap up, unfolding it. "This thing is totally awesome, you know, design an all." He paused. "But, just for the info, red made your soldiers really easy target. My guys were sniping at your people from miles away!"

"It's red because the blood shed won't be obvious." England snapped as he snatched his uniform back. "Unlike someone, we planned to fight head on and not sneakily."

"Aww come on, we weren't that bad. I wasn't that bad!" America argued.

"I suppose you're right. You put on quite a fight, and for that, I am somewhat proud." England smiled and ruffled America's hair. "My little angel's turned into quite the soldier, winning his first war with ease."

America felt his face flush at the compliment and the little gesture. Guess after all these years, England's little words and actions of approval still meant a lot to him.

"It wasn't easy at all! You have no idea how much effort I put in into defeating you." As expected from former pirate and empire, eh?

"That'll teach you to mess with me." England laughed again.

They both knew what happened after the war. Little words were exchanged between the two of them, and the next few years were spent in grey. Both of them faced different emotions, dealt with the same changes and different consequences. Time took its toll, and things slowly settled. The once clouded air between the two was starting to become clear again. But the elongated distance between them, that was something time couldn't help.

Two World Wars broke out years after, and when peace was disrupted, people were brought together. It was ironic how that worked, but nonetheless, the war brought the two together, and fortunately, on the same side.

"Don't you find it weird that we were first separated by war, then almost forcefully brought together again by war?" America asked from across the room. They had resumed the shirt hunt. The uniform sat beside the green cape, both folded neatly.

"Hmm? Why would you think that?" England replied without looking up from his work.

"Well, we started working together as a team again during the world wars, right? So if it didn't happen, how do you think the things between us would have turned out?"

"Probably the same." England shrugged. "We're countries, and sooner or later, we'll have to work together. Be it business, world meetings, or simple establishing international relationships."

"But wars still made a difference!" America turned to look at England. "Remember that time in Africa? Where we got so bored we started trying out all the Army rations?"

"That hundred year old fruit cake was hard to forget." England chuckled, reminded of that experience. The fruit cake was not only edible after so long, but tasted alright as well.

"Then there was that time where I kindly spared you some rations-"

"You wanted something in return."

"A kiss wasn't that much."

"Shut up."

The two continued talking about the little bits of memories they had, and found it almost strange that even after they're apart, even after they became two different countries, their memories were still often overlapping. And in that way, the both of them thought, that perhaps they were still just as close. Maybe closer, but who knows?

"You know, now that I think about it, we seem to really like to compete with each other." America noted as he pulled out another piece of clothing that held some interesting memories. It was a vampire costume, a blue vampire gentleman costume, to be exact. The small top hat was clipped onto the cape's collar.

"What makes you think that?" England asked? Finding another piece of clothing he would like to burn. This one, however, didn't quite belong to him.

"I think the fact that we try to scare each other shitless each Halloween is more than enough evidence." He waved the costume in his hand. "Eighty eight years, and still counting."

"We'll stop that competition when you would finally admit that I'm obviously better than you. You lose every year anyway." England shrugged, but he had to admit, that Halloween competition of theirs was something he look forward to every year. To be honest, that's perhaps the only competition between them that he was confident of winning.

He can't win any strength based competition, that's for sure. Heck, they're talking about the guy who can pull a car around for hours!

"Not every year, I won you this year, didn't I?" America was still extremely proud of his idea to invite Japan to the competition.

"That's one win against 87 lost, mind you." England rolled his eyes. Besides, it was America who scared him; it was Russia, sitting right outside as reception!

"Still a win nonetheless" He shrugged.

"That aside," The ash blonde showed the costume he was holding. "At least the competition I started didn't involve ridiculously tight fit costumes." In his hand was the Robin costume, comic book version, of course.

"Oh you kept that too?" America laughed at the reminder of the Halloween party at his house a few years back. "My batman costume's all ironed and nicely kept." The two of them took quite a lot of ridiculous photos that day, some of which he kept in order to blackmail England with a few years down the road.

"If you plan on having the two of us wear matching costume, at least get the versions right." The other rolled his eyes for the countless time. He still could not get how America had managed to convince to wear that ridiculous costume. It was probably the most embarrassing one – wait, no, there's something even more embarrassing that that.

"Well I'd say that my choice in costumes is still better than France. Remember what he made us wear during April fool?" He pointed out as the memory of the two of them, one wearing nothing but an apron and bear ears, and the other one in a complete nurse outfit, chased after a mostly naked France.

England slapped his forehead with his hand. Yes. That one was probably the most embarrassing one he's worn. The heels that came with the costume didn't prove as that much of a trouble in the end. Guess his days as a pirate paid off in more ways he could ever imagine. The boots he wore that time had much higher heels; perfect for stepping on enemies' back. Or their eyes.

"On hindsight, those embarrassing photos he took of us was probably not worth what we had to do." Not to mention that the photos were scattered all around, so they ended up being double embarrassed.

"Oh, that reminds me," America's eyes lit up. "You still sleep with a bear?"

"I would rather not have someone who wears a bear suit to sleep laugh about me hugging a bear to sleep." England rebutted almost immediately.

His method of phrasing, however, had unintentionally planted a seed of thought in both their brains. The room was quiet as the seed sprouted and the thought developed.

Then, the two's eyes met, and they started laughing at the idea, awkward laughter eventually turning into a chortle.

"Nope, not going there." America laughed as he set the vampire costume beside the war uniform and the cape. England did the same with the Robin costume.

"Let's keep this under 'things we will never mention', shall we?" The Brit suggested as they both nodded.

The shirt hunt resumed after several distractions, and as England looked into the last few racks in the room, America checked his long abandoned phone. They've spent three hours in the closet, he's very impressed now. Time in the closet was surprisingly fast and well spent. He never imagined that he would start chatting with England in such casual way about so much stuff.

In fact, it's been a long time since they've had a heart to heart talk… or something along that line.

"Found it."

America was snapped out of his thoughts as he looked up at England who, with a proud expression, held out a shirt the colour of the vast sea. In that moment, America heard something snap in his head.

Exactly what was the difference between this one and that sky blue shirt he suggested right from the beginning?!

"Don't give me that look; this is way better than the sky blue one." England said, noticing America's 'what the hell is wrong with you' look.

"Well then explain!" America asked, a little annoyed. "The only difference I see between your choice and mine is that yours has a darker color. Besides, even if we've finally found the perfect shirt for you, we still won't be getting out of here-"

"Turn around would you? It's hard to change with someone staring at me." Ignoring the blond, England instructed as he pointed in the direction of the door, smiling in amusement when the American almost immediately turned around, face flushed.

Still as childish as ever.

"What's the use of changing, it's not like we're going anywher-"

"Shut up, don't peek, and keep your eyes on the door."

"I won't peek!" America protested, and as he was still thinking that it was pointless to change, a knock on the closet door from the other side caught him surprised.

There was a knock again.

"England? Brother? Are you two inside?" Canada's voice was heard along with a few more knocks on the door.

America was, by now, very stunned. Why in the world was Canada here?

"Well, looks like someone forgot to lock the front door when he entered, again." Behind him, England rested a hand on America's for a moment as he stepped forward, already changed into the sea blue shirt.

America had to admit, England looked good in that shirt; England look good in any shirt to him.

"We're in here! Thanks for coming to get us, Canada." England shouted as he knocked on the door from his side. A sigh of relief was heard on the other side.

"Uh… Just wait for a moment, let me get the key…"

"On the desk beside the window." England instructed.

What followed next was a bit of stumbling while the two waited patiently. Having finally found the key and unlocked the closet door, Canada was never this relieved to see America and England.

On the other hand, America was never this happy to see Canada.

"Thanks for the help Canada." England smiled as he walked out of the closet, giving the Canadian a pat on the shoulder.

"Don't mention it," Canada smiled. "I figured America would never be late for dinner, so when you two didn't show up, my first thought was that he probably got you two in some sort of trouble again."

England nodded. "He did, got us locked in the closet for more than two hours."

"It's your own fault for installing one way doors." America complained as he joined the two. "If you had just gone with my choice, we wouldn't be locked in in the first place."

Hearing America's words, Canada smiled helplessly, he's more or less understood what had happened now. "But this shirt looks good on you, England." He complimented, ignoring America's obvious look of annoyance.

"Thanks Canada, at least you didn't get the same horrible fashion sense as your brother." England smiled. "You two go ahead outside, I'll go get my suit top" With that, he left the two.

"The sky blue shirt was obviously better." America muttered in a pout as the two walked out of the house.

"Oh, is that what you suggested?" Canada asked as America nodded. He giggled. "You still don't get it, do you?"

"What's there to get? It's just a shirt!"

"Sky blue is your colour, since you're obviously always reaching for a higher level." Canada explained as he pointed up at the darkening sky. "But sea blue belongs to England, because..." He paused

"Because what?" America urged.

Canada simply shrugged and smiled. "Can't tell you everything, or it won't be fun anymore." With that, he walked to join England, who walked out of the house, all dressed and ready to go.

"Dude! You can't just leave me hanging!" Alfred complained, chasing after the two.

* * *

><p>Be it stormy or gentle, the sea will always be the one embracing the sky. And should the sky crumble and fall, the sea will be there, ready to catch it.<p>

* * *

><p><em>AN: That's the end of the story, and I hope that you enjoyed it. The main drive of it was to write about them causally talking about everything, and yeah. This happened, and I'm quite satisfied with the result. I'll leave it up to you guys to decide their relationship. _Also they just came out of the closet. _  
><em>

Reviews are loved, thanks for reading :)  
>Also go check out my new story called Quartered if you're free, it's USUK too :3<p> 


	37. Something about him

Arthur counted his heartbeats as he sat on the velvet chair, waiting to have his royal symbol checked and possibly meeting the one carrying the King's symbol. He wasn't up to this, he knew that he wasn't.

He had spent his past eighteen years living as a peasant, a common orphan in an orphanage. It was not a life a normal person would prefer, but it was the one he got, and he's very content with it. He had planned to help out at the orphanage when he turns eighteen; he loved it there, it felt like home.

But things took a drastic change and his plans were rudely interrupted when the Spades symbol appeared on his shoulder on his eighteenth birthday. He recognized what the symbol was, and tried all his might to hide it. His efforts were in vain and within the same day, he was brought to the palace by the guards.

Now he sat here, more nervous than he had ever been as he fidgeted with his hands and darted his eyes about, subconsciously looking for a way to escape the palace. He was a little surprised by how many openings there were, and was about to escape his unfortunate fate of becoming royalty when a voice held him back.

"Hey... Are you okay?"

Arthur jerked his head up to look at the speaker almost immediately, guilty of his thoughts. He heaved a sigh of relief when the person in front of him wasn't a guard. In fact, the blond hair male looked smaller than him, his blue eyes full of enthusiasm though.

"I'm fine. Thank you." He replied a little unwillingly as he turned his gaze to the marble ground. Judging from the male's clothing, he had concluded that the boy either live in the palace, or belong to some rich family. Compared to him, compare to anyone in the palace, Arthur's clothing was a sight for eyesore. He frowned; dammit, he hates rich people.

"Well... Alright." Seeing the reaction, the male got the idea that he wasn't quite welcomed... "Hey, stay right here okay?" A thought ran though the boy's mind as he turned to run out of the hall, motioning for Arthur to stay right there.

Arthur looked up at the boy running out of the hall and thought of shouting some swearing at him; who was he to tell him what to do? But the thought that he might get his head chopped off kept the words in his head. It's not worth dying because of a rich brat.

"Here!"

As the intent to escape was stirring in him again, a pair of hands came into sight, holding a cup of tea. Arthur paused and looked up at the blue eyed boy, then down at the tea again.

... For him?

"It's Jasmine," The boy explained as he pushed the cup forward, motioning for Arthur to take it. "Yao said it calms people down."

...Yao?

"Uh... Thanks...?" Arthur muttered hesitantly as he received the warm cup and held it to his nose; its jasmine alright, his years of experience in forests told him that this was top grade jasmine. He took a sip.

"Feeling better?" The boy grinned while the latter took another sip.

Arthur nodded unwillingly. He hated to admit it, but the presence of a boy of a similar age and a good cup of tea did calm his nerves down by leaps. But telling that to a rich brat wasn't something he enjoy doing.

"Great!" The boy beamed. "Name's Alfred, and you are?" He asked as he invited himself to sit on the chair beside Arthur. The latter shifted away from him.

"A commoner." He stated with a blank face.

Alfred's smile went awkward stiff for a second. "I'm asking for your name, you know." He laughed it off.

Arthur just looked down at his cup and took another sip to keep himself busy. The Officials were sure taking their time... If he actually does become Queen, the first thing he'll do would be sacking the current officials.

"I'm not tuned to telling strangers my name." Arthur replied coldly.

"Hm... Quite the serious one, aren't you? How about you at least tell me what you're here for?" He pointed to the cup of tea and grinned. "A good cup of tea for some worthy information."

...Arthur had to fight the urge to pour the cup of tea at Alfred. Then again, the brat's probably not worth it.

Seeing Arthur's negative reaction, Alfred smiled helplessly. "Relax, I was just kidding. You can choose not to tell me if you don't want to. But I just thought that maybe you won't feel so nervous if you talk to someone, you know?"

"I'm not nervous."

"Eh?"

"I'm not nervous." He gave Alfred what seemed like a glare. "And if you must know," He stated as he raised his short sleeve and showed the symbol to Alfred. The latter's eyes widened. "I'm waiting for my death sentence."

There was a moment of silence after that.

Arthur kept his glare at Alfred, more than just annoyed that he had to tell the boy of his dreaded fate. Alfred on the other hand, looked up at Arthur, then at the mark, and at Arthur again. Then, he laughed.

"Pfft-hahahahaha! Dude, that's the Queen's symbol!" Alfred leaned back on his chair as he laughed. "We're having a male Queen this time!"

Arthur groaned; what did he expect from the rich prat. "Shut up, I'll have you know that I would rather die than become the queen."

"Really? You would rather kill yourself?" Alfred asked as he slowly recovered from the laughing fit. His laughter stopped completely when Arthur nodded without hesitations.

"But why would you do that?" He asked, looking more serious now. Arthur raised a brow at the sudden change in attitude. "What's so bad about being the queen?"

"What's the good in being one?" Arthur huffed and looked away. "The wrong gender aside, I am not willing to let go of my freedom and get cooped up here in this boring palace, serving a pretentious and cold King-"

"The king isn't that bad."

"What would you know?"

"Ah… Well… Enough to tell you that… the king isn't what you think he will be." Alfred elaborated. "That applies to the king now and the king who you'll be working with."

Arthur grunted. "I'm not working with anyone; either they find another queen candidate or they don't get a queen. There is no in between. I will not be compromised."

"Aww but come on! It would be fun!" Alfred encouraged as he leaned forward with a friendly smile. "I'm sure that being queen isn't as bad as you think it is."

"Once again," Arthur stated as he pushed Alfred back, "what would you kno-"

"More than enough." He grinned. "Look, we've barely known each other, but I think you're a great person. A little grumpy and a lot different from the previous Queen candidates-"

"Obviously. They would be female, in the least." Arthur rolled his eyes.

"Gender isn't an issue." Alfred shrugged. "Trust me, you'll make a great queen! So at least give it a go." He insisted with a pleading smile as he looked at Arthur.

The latter found it hard to ignore the boy. Like Alfred had said, he had only started conversing with the lad just a moment ago. Yet he's feeling a lot more at ease compared to before. The negative thoughts towards this whole royalty thing were slowly but definitely decreasing as well. It was probably the boy's contagious positive attitude.

"Why are you so worked up about it anyway?" Arthur questioned.

How should he put it? Annoying aside, Alfred was different compared to the many rich people he had encountered. For one, he wasn't a stuck up asshole, at least not for now.

Then there's the sincerity in his voice.

Living in the orphanage, Arthur's seen and heard way too many lies and put-up kindness. If someone was acting kind, he would be able to tell. But Alfred had been sincere all these time. He really did want him give things a go.

"Hmm… I'm probably going to get in trouble for this…" Hearing the question, Alfred rested his chin in his hand as he pondered over things.

"Pardon?" Unable to catch Alfred's muttering, Arthur asked.

Instead of answer him, Alfred went ahead and grabbed his hand. "Come on, I'll show you a place." And without giving Arthur a chance to say no, he started running, pulling the now swearing queen candidate along.

Alfred laughed to himself; the queen this time sure packed a punch.

Arthur had decided to neglect the fact that he might be attacking royalty, and was about to give the idiot a knuckle sandwich when the latter suddenly stopped.

"We're here!" Alfred exclaimed as he spread his arm out at the view in front of them.

Arthur's sight followed Alfred's gesture to a glorious view of the kingdom. It's nearing evening and the sun was just setting, dying the usual blue sky with its soft orange light. The town before them was still as bustling as ever as people carried on with their life, wearing a casual smile on their faces. Arthur took a step forward and took in the sight with wide eyes; he had never had a bird's eye view of the kingdom before, and what a view it was.

"This is the highest balcony in the palace." Alfred walked to stand beside Arthur as he explained. "See that smile on those people? I want to protect that smile, and the people wearing it. This kingdom is my home, and I love it more than anything else. So I hope to share the love, to give the best to this kingdom and its people. I want the citizens of spades, of this kingdom, to be proud of it, you know?" He smiled warmly.

Arthur wasn't sure if it was the light, but for that moment, Alfred looked different. The childishness displayed just now was gone, replaced by pure determination, pride and love for the kingdom. And for some reason, he started to slowly feel that way too.

"Look." Alfred turned to Arthur, looking at him sincerely. "The current king and queen have done a glorious job, but they will have to step down one day. And when that happens, the future king will need all the help he can get to run the kingdom, to be even better! You'll be a great queen, and with your help, the kingdom could be a so much better place."

"How sure are you?" Arthur asked. "That… I'll be able to do that? And I don't even know who the king might be. I can't do it"

"Gut feeling." Alfred patted his tummy, smiling sheepishly. "Give it a go! The symbols are never wrong, so all that's left is for you to believe in yourself."

"…Arthur."

"Huh?"

"Name's Arthur." Arthur looked away. "… For the tea."

Alfred took a second to run the words in his mind, and when he finally understood it, he beamed.

"Have some faith Arthur, you'll be a wonderful queen! Even the future king will agree with that!"

"For the third time," Arthur sighed and smiled ever so slightly. "Stop assuming things, you won't be able to know that."

"But I'm not assuming anything!" Alfred insisted as he started tugging at his long sleeve.

"Then how would you know that the future king will need a queen like me?" His voice was sarcastic, but the smile widened.

Arthur couldn't quite understand why a boy he met just a while ago was able to change his opinion and attitude towards his sentence as the queen so much, but he didn't quite mind. There's just something about Alfred that was different... The way his eyes always almost sparkle with hope and enthusiasm, the childish and welcoming way he act, the way his smile could actually warm people up…

"Because I'm the future king candidate," Raising his sleeve, Alfred revealed the King symbol on his left arm.

Arthur's jaw dropped a little as something clicked in his head. Everything Alfred had said, every one of those assumptions now made perfect sense. All these time he was talking and interacting with the one person he had dreaded about meeting.

He had spent his whole afternoon with the future king, and found himself enjoying the company.

He started laughing at how silly everything was, and how much of an idiot he was for not realizing things earlier. It was so obvious.

Alfred laughed too.

"So? Interesting in ruling the kingdom with me? The apparently pretentious and cold future king of Spades?" He joked with a cheeky grin as he held out a hand.

Arthur held it with a grin.

"Don't regret your choice, my King."

There was something about the Queen candidate that Alfred couldn't quite figure out. Perhaps it was the outstanding character, the bit of innocence in all that grumpiness and sarcasm. Perhaps it was the deep green eyes that made him so mysterious and unapproachable, yet so precious and attractive. Or perhaps, it was the fact that he never seemed to smile, which only made it tempting for him to try and change that.

Whatever the reason was, Alfred knew from the moment he saw Arthur, that he was it.

That Arthur, would be the one and only queen for him.

* * *

><p><em>Woo cardverse!<em> \(0w0)/  
><em>Dammit i love the AU so much gosh Queen Arthur. <em>  
><em>Things can't get more precious than that. <em>  
><em>Oneshot practice for the big project in December~<em>


	38. Dear Me

_Write a letter to your ten year old self. _

**-One- **

Dear Me.

Hey little guy, how are ya?

I don't really get the point of writing this letter, since you are probably never going to get it. But hey, can't say no to something like this. It's fun to get real sentimental at times, you know? Oh wait, you probably won't know what that word means... Go check a dictionary or ask him, he'll tell ya.

You know, I'm so jealous of you. I know it's weird for me to get jealous of you when you are supposedly me, I mean getting jealous of myself is just so weird. Then again, nothing is weirder than me writing this letter right now... I wonder if he will write one too... If it's you, you would probably just go up to him and ask, eh? You with your big blue eyes and innocent smile, no way he can reject you.

Ahh... How I wish I still have that charm.

You just... He love you so much, and for no reason, for that matter. You love him too right? I mean i can tell since you are sort of me and stuff and gosh you were crazy about him! He has that sort of charm too, the kind of charm which just makes up for everything he's not good at. And man he's so bad at almost everything. Remember that time he pushed the swing so hard that it almost launched you out to the pool? Cos I sure do.

Well he still has that charm.

And it's still as effective as always. I guess it's a good thing. You know he never improves at whatever he does. Still setting kitchens on fire and being sarcastic as hell while he sips on his tea. You know at least he was honest with you... or kind for that matter. Now all he does is scowl at me once in a while and the other times he's either laughing or disagreeing with me.

Thinking about that kind of piss me off.

I mean I still have the blue eyes! Probably not as big as yours but charming nonetheless! Besides I'm a hero now! Why won't anyone fall for the hero. It doesn't make sense. That guy's eyebrows still didn't make sense. He said it represented his gentleman-ness or something. But please that thing is so thick a bird would mistake it for a fat worm, but he's nowhere like a gentleman, mind you.

So you see. I really envy ya. You get the nice side of him, the side with actual love and all and damn I would sell my soul and eat his hazardous food for life to get that. And just to make a point here, i actually am eating all that stuff. But do i get my part of the deal? No, he's still mean and grumpy as ever.

Well I grew up a little too fast, and I know that you will too. So here's an advice even though it probably won't reach you. Take your time, treasure the moments, and give him my share of the love too, alright?

And I'll give him your share of it too.

~ Love  
>Alfred, F. Jones.<br>United States of America

**-Two-**

Dear me.

I would like to neglect the casual greeting since this whole letter is pointless anyway; the very concept of writing a letter to the past puzzles me.

In fact, the thought of writing this was extremely unappealing. As far as I'm concerned, my childhood- what you are experiencing right now, was not exactly something I would love to remember. Precious memories as they might be, it could simply be concluded by a single sentence: "The world is my enemy, and I'm left alone."

My sincere apologies if that had in one way or another spoiled your day. But the bitter truth is best served bare, perhaps that's why tea speaks to me in so many levels. Tell you what. let me give you a glimpse of your future, my past. Be astounded, be amazed, be prepared to go through all of it.

As I had previously mentioned, my childhood was rough, and that shaped my character and built my attitude. Years later I- You will grow up to be a fine young man with the heart of a lion. That bastard who has always been on your nerves will still be there, regretfully. But he comes handy once in a while, especially when you took your throne on the sea and need to toss someone down the sea once in a while. All in the name of good fun and rivalry, of course.

You will lead your fleets of battleship to victory and laugh as a certain Spaniard drowns with his armada. Don't worry, we don't die, he will unfortunately live and in turn become the craziest tomato loving creature. There's nothing we can do there.

Being alone almost all those time, you will find yourself full of joy and hope when you first hug the child. His eyes are beautiful. "Are", because they are still beautiful now. If not, more captivating than before with the pinch of maturity in it. Just a small pinch; that git hasn't matured much, fortunately.

That child will become the most important person in your life, that applies to both you and me. Well obviously, we are the same person after all. Take good care of him, I know you will; I did a splendid job at it, if I do say so myself. Just be a little careful not to push him too hard at the swing... Don't ask questions, and heed the warning.

By the time you realized exactly how attached you are to him, it would be the day he leave you, and the scar across your heart never fails to hurt. I cannot lie and tell you that you will be fine, because you won't. But do trust me when i tell you that the pain is proof of how much you love him. Hold on to that, and don't let go.

Then hope and pray that he love you just as much.

I could sit here writing all day, telling you about your future life. But that would take the fun out of living, won't it? And what torture that would be, especially since we live forever. Your life ahead will be a thrilling one, that I assure you. And from where I am now, I can safely tell you that things will be fine. In fact, it's great.

All I really have on my plate right now belongs to him, and he never fails to criticize how bad they are as he gobble them up one by one. Play along, aright? He's a horrible liar, and sometimes a little too egoistic. Don't hold back on the sarcasm, it's what spice things up, and world meetings are very boring things.

Finally, wipe your tears dry and keep walking, you are not alone anymore.

Seemed like all those praying worked, he love you just as much.

~ Love

Arthur Kirkland  
>England, United Kingdom<p>

* * *

><p><em>AN: The prompt came from this post on facebook and I just thought that it would be fun to write about them. I am still on a break but this came out all of a sudden so I thought i might as well post it here. Reviews are loved, and. Well. Go ahead and write your own letter i guess. Hope you've enjoyed reading this. /bows _


	39. A tale of two hearts

**~One~**

For some reason, Alfred felt warmer with each passing day.

"Morning sunshine." He smiled lovingly as he waved at me. Sitting on my bed, I return the smile and wave.

"I told you, you can just go ahead and get ready for work first, you know." I said as he pulled the curtains apart, letting the morning sun and fresh air into the room. I took a deep breath and smiled.

Alfred ignored my words and took a deep breath as well. "It's a good day to have bacon and eggs for breakfast."

I laughed.

"We _always _have bacon and eggs for breakfast."

"Well, no matter what we're eating, breakfast isn't gonna cook itself!" With that, he left the room. I fell back on my bed, quietly counting his steps as he went downstairs to the kitchen. What followed was the banging of pots and the sizzling of oil in a heating pan.

Mornings have always been this way here in this house. It's been two years since we started living together as a couple, and he had banned me from the kitchen after just the first month. It was unfair, yes. But at least I didn't have to do any of the cooking or washing up. The only bane was that Alfred seemed to know little about dish variations. I worked as a magazine editor and spent most of my time at home. Alfred on the other hand worked as a technician, running out of the house right after breakfast and returning just before dinner.

We sleep in separate rooms, if that made any sense. In fact, the only advance between us was the fact that we live together. Mainly because of the fact that I had irregular working hours; I had to work through nights on extreme cases, and sharing the same room would be a huge bother for both of us. We didn't mind; we were dating, not married. Things could take their own time for all I care.

But don't get me wrong. I love him. I love him more than anything in the world.

"Well then, I'll be leaving for work now." Breakfast was over in a rush and Alfred was already putting on his shoes, his bag slung across his shoulder. "Take care of yourself alright?"

I smiled, leaning sideways against the wall as I watched him. "Of course I will, what do I think I am? A five year old?"

"And no cooking."

Yes, thank you for reminding me of the ban. I rolled my eyes, but nodded anyway.

"love you." He faced me and smiled before leaving the house, the door closed gently behind him, followed by a click as he locked the door.

"I love you too." I replied to myself before turning to retreat to my room.

For some reason, Alfred had stopped looking at me in the eyes.

**~Two~**

Arthur woke to the sound of the door opening. Rubbing his tired eyes, he sat up on the sofa and set the magazine in his lap on the spot beside him.

"Welcome back." He muttered in a drowsy voice as he turned to smile at Alfred. The latter raised his hand and waved the object he was holding at Arthur. It was a bouquet of flowers.

Arthur laughed a mix of annoyance and helplessness. "How many times did I tell you that you can stop buying flowers for me?"

"I've lost count of the number of times you've told me not to." Alfred shrugged with a sheepish laugh. "But hey, you always look so happy when you receive them."

"There are cheaper ways of making me happy, thank you very much." Arthur wondered if he should be mad or happy.

"Well that aside." Ignoring the comment, Alfred grabbed the vase off the dining table and proceeded into the kitchen, coming out with a vase of fresh flowers. "I accidentally bought an extra pack of food again." Smiling helplessly, he set the vase on the dining table. "If this continues, I'm either going to grow extra fat, or feel guilty for throwing all the good food away."

Arthur sighed with a smile as he joined the latter at the dining table.

"Well then you better start reminding yourself of it." He remarked, leaning into smell the flowers before sitting down, facing Alfred. He wondered if he should ask him about his work, about the weather, about the recent lack of eye contact…

"Today was horrible. " Before Arthur could make up his mind, Alfred had taken the initiative, talking as he dug into his food. "You know I feel like starting a class for all computer users and teach them the basics of using a computer."

Arthur grinned to himself; Alfred always had the funniest stories to tell about his day at work. On the other hand, the most interesting happening during his work would probably be some ridiculous gossip on some famous stars. Of course, Alfred wouldn't be interested in that, so there was no use sharing it anyway.

"Is it that bad?" He mused.

"It's horrible I tell you." Alfred waved his fork a little. "I had people coming to me because they can't find the home button. How bad is that? And that's not even my job scope!"

"Your job scope is to help people with technical issues or malfunction." He pointed out.

"That's not even technical difficulty anymore, that's just them being lazy and refusing to read the manual." Alfred sighed, before smiling just a little.

"But I guess it's fine."

"Hmm?" Arthur raised an eyebrow.

"They all look real happy when I fix things up, and that's real important." He grinned as Arthur smiled along.

He guessed that Alfred's smiles made up part of his warm personality.

Things were silent after that. All that could be heard was the muffled sound of tears rolling down Alfred's cheeks and dropping into his food.

Arthur felt his heart pinch, and raised a hand to cup Alfred's cheek, wiping the tears off with his thumb.

"Alfred, love, don't cry."

Alfred shook his head slightly, his tears wouldn't stop.

"I'm sorry…"

"Don't be, it's not your fault."

"I tried, I really did."

"I know, I see your efforts." His own face felt wet now. Oh right, how could he forget about that?

"I miss you so much, Arthur." Alfred muttered between the soft sobbing.

"I miss you too Alfred, I miss you too." Oh right, how could he forget?

* * *

><p>It's been three months since Arthur died, three months since I chose to believe that he is still with me.<p> 


	40. Newest: A tale repeated

**One. **

"How is it?" Alfred asked anxiously, standing up almost immediately when Arthur walked out of the checkup room.

"Fine." Arthur replied calmly. The latter wasn't convinced nor relieved.

"Fine? You fainted back there. While driving a car!" Alfred stated, furrowing his eyebrows. "That doesn't feel fine to me at all!"

Arthur sighed. "I'm just tired and dozed off. You think too much."

Alfred tightened his fists; Arthur always been a bad liar, but it felt like he wasn't even trying this time. The chances of Alfred believing that Arthur fell asleep in the middle of a heavy traffic was close to none.

He looked at Arthur, who avoided eye contact. The Brit had bandages wrapped around his head, where the crash wound was. Luckily, the head wound was the only serious one among the scattered cuts and bruises. That, and the fact that he looked more than a little shaken and pale to be healthy. But if Arthur wasn't going to tell him anything, then there's no use trying to know about it.

Alfred sighed.

"You could have died." He reached out to hold Arthur's hand in his. His heart pinched at how cold it felt.

"I'm fine Alfred." Looking up to meet the eye contact, Arthur forced a smile. "Just… Get me home and let me rest, alright? A car crash is enough for one day."

Alfred nodded blindly, taking his jacket off and wrapping it around Arthur as he led the latter out of the hospital.

"Alright, let's get you something warm to drink first."

**Two**

"He isn't fine at all." The doctor rested the files on the desk with a long sigh. "Didn't he tell you?"

Alfred sat in front of the desk, shaking his head.

"He said he was fine."

The Doctor's office was colder than any office he had been, and he instinctively didn't like it. Then again, he never did like anything in the hospital; from the suffocating antiseptic scented air to the dead silence. It's a place full of pain and death, definitely not a place he would like Arthur to be in.

The doctor pushed his glasses up in slight annoyance. "I see." He sighed and proceeded to turn the projector on, getting Alfred to look as an image of an x ray appeared. Alfred knew what this meant, and boy how he wished he knew wrong.

"This is an x ray of the patient's skull." The doctor explained as he pointed to a particular black patch on the image. "And this, is a brain tumor." He announced, the grave tone immediately killing the bit of hope in Alfred.

"We found this only after that car accident, and unfortunately, it's already too late." Seeing Alfred's almost devastated expression, the doctor softened his tone as he switched the projector off. The more the relative stare at it, the harder the truth gets. "I'm afraid that there's nothing I can do."

Alfred was hearing the words loud and clear, but he was unable to process any of it. The image of that x ray was burned into his memory, and already it was numbing his senses with pain. This was nowhere near fine.

"H-how long does he have left?"

**Three**

When Alfred was allowed into the ward, Arthur was half sitting on the bed, flipping through the magazines the hospitals had provided for the patients.

"These would have been more interesting if I wasn't the one who edited them." laughing bitterly, Arthur closed the magazine and waved it at Alfred a little.

Alfred managed a bitter smile of his own as he sat on the chair beside Arthur's bed. "I'll get you a book tomorrow." He volunteered as he grabbed an apple from the bedside table and started peeling it for Arthur.

"Or," Arthur leaned back on his pillow with a sigh. "You can get me out of here."

Alfred abruptly stopped the peeling and turned sharply to look at Arthur in disbelief. The latter ignore the eye contact and stared at the ward's plain boring ceiling.

"I hate this place, don't you hate it too?"

"But you—"

"You've talked to the doctor haven't you?" Arthur finally turned to face Alfred, the other took his turn avoiding the pair of green eyes.

Arthur sighed. He reached out slowly to cup the latter's cheek, slowly bringing Alfred's eyes to meet his. Then, in an attempt to break things in the most gentle way possible, he whispered.

"Please. I don't want to die here."

**Four**

"I'm sorry." Taking the stethoscope off to hang it on his neck, the doctor shook his head in near regret. "He's gone."

"It- it's not even a week yet." Alfred sat on the bed, Arthur lying motionless beside him. He tightened his grasp on Arthur's ice cold hand in a desperate attempt to share his warmth with his love; Arthur hated being cold. "You said he had a month." His voice was trembling, and keeping his tears behind his eyes was getting more difficult by the moment.

"I'm a doctor." The doctor gave Alfred a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. "When i am right, no one listens. When I am wrong, people never forget. He should have stayed in the hospital."

"… He didn't want to be in there, he wanted to spend his last days at home." Alfred muttered, regretting his decision of bringing Arthur home.

The doctor took a glance of Alfred and Arthur's expression before he sighed yet again; it seemed rather normal for him to sigh nowadays. Despite being doctor, there were many things he couldn't do and change.

"Then take it that he died a happy death." He turned to pack his case. "He was with you throughout his last days, and I have a haunch that it meant a lot to him." Picking his case up, he turned to leave the room.

"Don't take it too hard on yourself. No matter how things go, it would end the same way, there's nothing any of us could do." With that, he left, leaving the two alone to their last moment.

The moment didn't last as long as Alfred thought it would.

**Five**

**Six**

**Seven**

Alfred took a deep breath and exhaled as he reached the top of the fleet of stairs. He pushed the door in front of him open, walking out to the roof of the high building. The strong and chilly wind here was almost instantly numbing him with cold.

He shivered a little.

Walking to the edge of the roof, he climbed over the safety railing and stared down at the city below him. Then, before his brain could convince him not to, before fear was able to kick in, he took a step forward.

**Eight.**

The doctor was right, there was nothing they could do. But there was something he could do; something he would not hesitate to. He'll leave this world to where Arthur was, find him, and continue to love him.

After all.

Death ends a life, not a relationship.

_Wait for me, Arthur._

* * *

><p><em>An: Quote "Death ends a life, not a relationship" by author Mitch Album, go read his books, they are real good. _


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